Ache
by heartrush
Summary: "I volunteer!" She practically screamed at Sango, shoving her other hand out as if the woman was going to take it. Everyone burst into conversation, gossiping about a situation that was happening before their very eyes. Inuyasha's body tensed up like a rod. Kagome is going into the arena. Kagome will die.
1. Breathe

Inuyasha was woken up by the sound of hundreds of shuffling feet and loud voices. _Fuck_ , he thought, _Reaping day._

He was up late last night. A last minute job transporting contraband items into the black market. He was paid a lot to do it, but he didn't go to bed until the sun rose.

The rotting wood that made up his shitty house allowed the sun to peek through. The beam hit him right in his eyes and he cowered away from it like the nocturnal creature that he was.

He looked at the dingy digital clock at the corner of his room. It told him it that it was fifteen minutes before eleven in the morning. If he didn't get to the town square soon, some Peacekeepers were sure to come and drag him out by the hair. A sad excuse for law enforcement, the Peacekeepers were a warped group of assholes that obviously relished in doing their job in the cruelest way. _Bastards_ , he thought spitefully.

Inuyasha left his house in the clothes he slept in and threw on some shoes haphazardly. They didn't look _too_ fucked up. He jogged through the deserted town to reach the bulky crowd.

He hated reaping day. He has enough to be concerned with without considering being picked for the yearly death match between 24 shit-scared teens.

As soon as Inuyasha reached groups of people, he didn't bother going to the front. He could see and hear everything just fine where he was. The sooner everything was over with, he could get back to sleep. Or, he could be carted away to his death. It was a 50/50 chance.

If he pretends that this situation isn't dire he doesn't have to face the fact that he can die if his name is picked. Although Inuyasha has nothing to live for, he's pretty positive that he doesn't want to die, especially not by the Capital's hands. He closed his eyes and tried to force these fears from his head.

The amount of conversations happening around him started to irritate his senses instead. Inuyasha didn't have anyone to talk to that would drown out the noise. Not sure where to put his attention, he just looked at the stage in front of him.

There was a woman standing at the podium in the middle of the stage. She was wearing the same high ponytail she sported every year, complimented by an expensive looking outfit. Her collar had some kind of fantastical floral embroidery, something that must have taken a poor tailor hours to do. She might look delicate at first glance, but Inuyasha could tell she was the furthest thing from gentle; the set in her jaw spoke for itself.

Based on what he's seen of the Capital on television, her outfit could actually be considered subtle.

Sango, as everyone was allowed to call her, was feared by children of ages 12-18 ever since she was first enlisted to manage District 12's elects. She escorted tributes to the Capital and took care of them until they—pretty much without fail—died weeks later.

Sango's presence was an omen. Inuyasha couldn't wait for her to leave, because he wouldn't have to face her again.

"Excuse me," her voice boomed from several speakers surrounding the area. His ears pulled back at the loud noise. The crowd piped down almost immediately. "The time has come for the 74th Hunger Games," she declared, and he watched her eyes squint critically at the children District 12 had to offer. There was a twitch in her otherwise iron clad appearance, which probably meant they looked terrible. As they always did. He already knew what she was going to say next. Sango said every year with an emotionless drawl, looking sincerely tired of the phrase. Inuyasha assumed it was something the Capital forced her to say.

"And may the odds be…" a loud sob came from the crowd, making her to stop and clear her throat. "...ever in your favor."

Everyone was quieted by the irony of that expression, even Sango. Her face was hardened like stone.

The lack of noise made Inuyasha incredibly anxious. He wanted to go home, go to sleep, and forget the bullshit. This could just be just another morning for him if he doesn't get picked. If he is picked…he doesn't really want to think about it because he _knows_. He lives a meaningless life now, if he dies it wouldn't change anything.

Why was she waiting so long to speak again?

A resounding burp broke the silence. The reintroduction of sound sapped the tension from the area and replaced it with the erratic feelings of fear that was so obvious before. Slumped on a chair was the only mentor their humble district had to offer, Miroku. A man who won 15 years ago that was now seen as the town drunk. Inuyasha was pretty sure Miroku was never sober enough to be useful. Miroku might look worse than him: disheveled hair in a dumb rat tail, his shirt completely wrinkled and the laces of his dress shoes were untied.

"Ahem," Sango, revived, coughed again, "Let's get on with it."

Subtle cries were heard across the crowd. Scared children, probably, who had just become eligible for the games. They cry the most.

"Shhhh, Sota," Inuyasha eavesdropped. "It's okay, you survived 3 years already…"

He looked over and noticed Kagome Higurashi a ways away, the eldest granddaughter of the town minister. She was kneeling down and soothing not only her 15 year old squirt of a brother, but an even younger sibling that Inuyasha couldn't recognize. She was small, and cried silently, which was fucking eerie. There was a ponytail at the side of her head.

Inuyasha only knew Kagome because they were the same age and went to school together, that is until he was allowed to drop out. It was their last year that either of them could be pulled, by next summer both of them would be nineteen. He'll never have to deal with this shit again. That is unless he has kids in the future. Highly unlikely.

Kagome has always been extremely nice to him, despite the fact that he was a dick for a great deal of their childhood.

He was trying to get by on his own the best way he could as a kid. His mother died when he was eight, his father died even earlier than that. Putting on a show of strength and violence when he really had none was what worked best for survival. Some shittier, more perceptive people called him on it; he got his ass handed to him.

He secretly hoped Kagome didn't get picked, maybe afterward he could actually speak with her for once in his life (he may or may not have tried multiple times), without imploding.

"Ladies first," Sango called into the crowd of cowering families.

She stuck her hand into a large bowl, which was a pool full of names of every eligible candidate. As they age, another slip with their name on it is added to the bowl. If they got government assistance, their name would be added more times. Inuyasha thinks his name was in the boys' bowl at least 100 times. He's not sure.

There was the shuffling of paper. Sango unraveled the tiny scroll and read the name. "Rin Noto."

Kagome gasped. He looked at her again, and then he looked at the Peacekeepers. The armed guards walked down from the stage, and masses of relieved people parted the way for them to take the child that wasn't them.

"No," Kagome whispered, and Inuyasha looked at her, saw her grasping the little girl's shoulders, still bent at the knees beside her. "Rin, I will figure this out. I promise."

Inuyasha balked. Figure this out? There was no changing it. Rin was called.

Kagome swiftly stood, turning to the guards who had come to take Rin. Funnily enough, the little girl wasn't sobbing like before or begging for her life, she just began to walk with them.

"Rin, no!" Sota called.

"Uh," Kagome began to stammer, and Inuyasha watched her lock eyes with Sango, already moving towards the stage. She didn't look at her brother, but she called out to him as she seemed to contemplate chasing after Rin. "I love you Sota, I'm sorry—"

The guards and Rin got closer to Sango.

Kagome ran forward, pushing through the crowd and bravely putting a hand on the man who held Rin's arm. She made her choice.

"I volunteer!" She practically screamed at Sango, shoving her other hand out as if the woman was going to take it. Everyone burst into conversation, gossiping about a situation that was happening before their very eyes. Inuyasha's body tensed up like a rod. _Kagome is going into the arena. Kagome will die._

Sango's brows raised, her face softening with what Inuyasha interpreted as admiration. He was still completely frozen. Her voice poured out slowly over the microphone, Kagome's sudden sacrifice causing the entire crowd to quiet down once again. "Take the girl back, we have a volunteer."

Rin, who was complacent the whole time, ran from between the large men and hugged Kagome's legs. She finally spoke.

"No, please!" she cried in a shrill voice, "I don't want you to do that!"

Kagome leaned over, cradling the crown of her head. The loving gesture was distantly familiar. "I want to do this for you."

"Promise you'll come back."

"...I promise," It was a small whisper, not confident at all.

"Time's up," The man gripped Kagome by the collar and began to pull her away. In response, Kagome shoved her shoulder into the guard's torso, dislodging herself.

"Excuse me, sir. I can walk by myself."

"Little bitch," Inuyasha heard the man say under his breath. Everyone pretended it was never uttered.

Kagome took her place beside Sango, a single tear running down her face. He watched her attempt to blink it away. Sango looked over at the girl and nodded a little awkwardly.

"That was a nice thing you did." A pleasantry, a fucked up compliment. Sango was truly impressed and didn't understand the irony. Kagome traded her own life for a young girl's—she didn't hold the door for her.

Kagome looked over pointedly, offended by her statement. Sango's brow knotted in stifled embarrassment before she moved over to the boy's pot.

Watching Sango move to pick a male tribute felt unsettling to him. Inuyasha could remember every time in his life where he watched her do this. He was eighteen, self-sufficient-but he still reacted the same way he did when he was twelve and it was his first Reaping.

His heart beat like a hammer, panging in his chest and adding to the tingling, all-encompassing nervousness in his body. His throat was tight. He balled up his fists in order to calm the nerves he was ashamed to possess. He tried to stamp down on his overactive imagination, conjuring up the many ways things could end if he was picked-

"Time for the boys," she announced. The chattering crowd hushed once more, awaiting their fate.

Her hand rustled in the pile of names, digging into the papers.

"Alright," she mumbles. "This is it."

He closed his eyes again. He knows it. He feels it.

She unraveled the piece of paper, reading the words before her. "Inuyasha Taisho."

Every face turned to him, because everyone in this gods forsaken place knew he was the town tramp. He inhaled and exhaled deeply in frustration, staring coldly at the nosy people around him. Before he was forcefully taken by the menacing guards ahead of him, Inuyasha walked to the stage in silence and stood next to Sango. His mind was blank as he scanned the view from the stage. The crowd was huge, but they looked so small, packed together tightly. He glanced critically at Miroku, then Sango, then...

He turned his head to look at Kagome, and she met his gaze. He jumped slightly, but stared back. The slight pout on her face turned into a full on frown, and two more tears came down. She shook her head and looked away.

"There you have it, your tributes."

* * *

The crowd cleared quickly; comforted that they will live to see another year.

* * *

Inuyasha was shoved into a room by some grumpy Peacekeepers. He only had five minutes before they came back to get him.

This meant that he had a few moments of utter silence before he was shipped off to the Capital with Kagome. The complete stillness in the room he was forced to be in was awkward and oppressive.

The space was completely bare, save for a chair to sit on and a desk beside it. False comforts. Inuyasha chose to stand out of spite.

He could hear Kagome and her family in the opposite room, her grandfather seemed to be praying in a harsh whisper. Everybody else in the room was weeping. Feeling like a creep for listening in on a private moment like that, Inuyasha began to pace within the cramped space. He resorted to pushing out the sad energy coming from Kagome and her family with his own morbidity.

Objectively, Inuyasha could have a good chance. Weighing his strengths, he was pretty resilient and he's heard from some of the shady guys he works with that he has a pretty thick skull. That means he can take a beating, right? He was a half-demon, so of course he can. A shallow cut on his arm is healed within minutes, if not seconds. _But,_ no one likes half-demons. So he'll probably get targeted more than anyone else (unless there were plenty of half-demons to go around, which was a fucking impossibility).

Fuck.

His memory jogs itself and he recalls the problem of the arena. The Capital changes the scenery every year. Inuyasha hopes, even thinks of praying, for a woodsy arena. It would be perfect for him. There was no tree that he couldn't climb, his sense of smell would be top notch…

If there were woods he could live.

In the middle of his daydream, there were approaching stomps coming closer to the door.

A guard came into Inuyasha's room, voice ready to scold. "Get ready to leave-oh. You're alone."

Inuyasha, who had became tense for a second, deflated completely. This man wasn't anyone to be afraid of. He couldn't help the exasperated expression he directed at the Peacekeeper.

 _No shit._

"Don' worry, I'm not tryna stay in this tiny shithole." Inuyasha crossed his arms and kicked the leg of the table beside him for good measure.

"Yeah, you're all big and grand. Come on, asshole." He was grabbed by the shoulder by the clumsy guard and pushed forward.

Across from him, another officer was escorting Kagome's family out with a bit more reverence. Her mother and grandfather were despondent, Rin in between them. Sota stayed at the edge of the door, calling out for his sister, gripping the frame.

"I'm going to be waiting for you, Kagome."

Kagome's face was wretched. Her hand was placed over her heart in an effort to calm herself as she took in what was probably her final sight of her brother. The visible pressure of her hand on her chest is seen in the wrinkles she created on her shirt, it looked like she was trying to untangle a knot in her heart. "I love you, Sota. Take care of everyone."

She was holding back her sob, but it came through in her voice anyway. Inuyasha thought he would look away, he hates seeing people so helpless, but there he was stock still, watching the rawness of the moment in sick fascination.

One of the men grabbed Sota by the arm and started to drag him away. "Kagome, you have to come back, no matter what!" Sota's flare of confidence almost made it seem like he wasn't sniveling at the reaping less than an hour ago. Inuyasha was impressed by his swift turnaround.

Kagome looked up at Inuyasha, a desperate expression on her face, as if he were going to give her an answer to a question she hasn't even asked yet. She got out of her daze within seconds. Her eyes closed. Her hand dropped.

Time almost felt like it was slowing down; the world as he and Kagome knew it was experiencing an apocalypse. They were irrevocably anchored to each other. Either one of them or neither of them will come back.

Kagome's family was now gone, and so were the Peacekeepers. It was just the two of them in the stretching hallway, surrounded by old wood floors and the chipping paint on the walls. Even though she seems like the type to fill the silence on principle, Kagome remained quiet. Her eyes were still closed. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, fingers clenched in the fabric of her clothing. Her body was crumpling in on itself, her shoulders hunching to assist.

Inuyasha noticed that he was looking to her for guidance. If she talks he can nod or grunt in response, forget what's actually happening. He doesn't feel like grasping his heart in his hands right now like she is. His body tingles, panickingly searching for something to feel and hold onto like Kagome does so earnestly, but he is numb. How long are they going to wait there? Neither of them know.

Time floats on carelessly.

* * *

"Let's go, kids." Miroku appeared in the hallway to fetch them. The sound broke through the persistent hiss that shut down his brain.

"Okay," Kagome whispered.

As Miroku begins to lead them, Inuyasha begins to yell at himself. _Why would you get so fucking lost like that? Of course you're going to die, you aimless douche._

He zoned out because he was scared. But he can't be scared. _But he's really scared._

The hallway goes on forever until a door seemingly appears out of nowhere, an unsatisfying oasis. Kagome voices his reluctant relief with a sigh.

They walked side by side and out of the back doors of the town's justice building. They were close enough for her shoulder to brush against him, which shook him. Looking at her to judge distance, he put a respectable amount of space between them. She was wearing a very modest outfit, a turtleneck dress with long sleeves and a hem that reached her ankles. Her clothes were neat and colored in matching shades of brown and Inuyasha felt a moment of shame, quickly turning his head. His outfit was wrinkled and old, something his father used to own but it billowed on him. He had to roll up the sleeves to his elbows to look halfway decent. He shoved it from his mind-why the fuck does he have to care how he looks?

Down the path was the bullet train.

"This is going to be the ride of your life," Miroku commented, "Get ready for culture shock."

Sango was standing at the threshold of the train. There was a pristine clipboard in her hands and a sympathetic look on her face. "Sorry that was such a short encounter, but hopefully one of you will be seeing your family again."

Kagome looked at him, and then down at her feet in shame.

"C'mon." Miroku gestured. "This train travels straight through all the districts and into the Capital."

Everyone stepped into the first car and Inuyasha was shocked by the interior. It was luxurious, way better than anything they'd find in town.

"Your rooms are right next to each other, in the next car," Sango guided everyone forward. She walked and pointed at doors and gestured at areas of the train to give a brief description of what would be their home for around 12 days. "This is the dining room."

"Living room." Cushy sofas were placed underneath the car windows with a TV directly across it.

"My room." A plain door.

"Miroku's room." Yet another door, close to Sango's.

"Fitness center." An open space with weight training equipment.

"Bathroom." One of many.

"Sun room." It was the very edge of the train, with large windows that allowed light to cover the room in a comforting, almost nap-inducing way. A curved sofa, a kind which Inuyasha has never seen before, was against the wall with a small table near it.

Sango turned and looked at her troops, a slight frown on her face. "We have a little while on this train, so get comfortable. There are chefs and other amenities at your disposal because the capital wants you to be at your healthiest when you reach the arena."

"So pig out." Miroku says plainly.

" _Pig out?_ " Kagome repeated slowly. Inuyasha turned to see her expression, and felt her anger when her eyes narrowed.

"Yes, of course. You would be at a disadvantage if we let you two go into battle malnourished," Sango replied.

Inuyasha resented that statement. They're from the poorest district, with only one previous victor who was a lush. They weren't exactly at the top tier of the competition.

"Oh, I think we're already at a disadvantage," he spat. "It's not like we're from District 2, where they eat shit like nails for breakfast."

Miroku snorted and agreed wholeheartedly, "It comes with the territory of a military district."

"It's bullshit," he replied.

"Can either of you give us any techniques for survival?" Kagome asked seriously, cutting the atmosphere.

"There will be plenty of time for that; you guys can just rest for tonight." Sango soothed, trying to change the topic.

"Well, the other people who were chosen to go in the games…" she paused. "They never came back. I just want to know if you two have genuine advice."

Miroku spoke for Sango, bringing up a hushing finger to stop her retort. He put up a hand to calm Kagome.

"Listen, enjoy yourself. Eat til you pass out. Watch television. Take baths. Fuck each other, or something." Kagome's face began transforming into a scowl. "It's going to be tough. You either hide 'til the show is over, which is almost impossible, or you die because the other kids are well fed and trained for this crap."

"We need your help!" Kagome shot back. "You're supposed to train us and tell us how to survive, not tell us to pig out because death is around the corner!"

"Sweetheart," Miroku placated, "If anything, you might want to depend on this guy," he gestured in Inuyasha's direction. "He has a fighting chance, he's a demon."

 _Half-demon._

"This is not fair," she argued, "You're leaving us by ourselves. This is why all of Twelve's tributes die."

"I had to go alone," he offered in consolation, shrugging.

"That is _no_ excuse!"

Miroku stared back at her. "And?"

Kagome groaned and abruptly walked through the door, presumably to her own room. Her stomps were heard around them, echoing until she was too far away to be heard.

Sango sighed, "How many times have I told you that your idiotic anti-pep talk never works?"

"You've been telling me for 13 straight years." His voice was devoid of emotion. Inuyasha expects to hear malice in his tone, but the man just seemed resigned.

"My point was made, again."

"We can't coddle them like this is their first day of school."

They were speaking as if Inuyasha wasn't in the room. Were he and Kagome so interchangeable that they don't care to distinguish their presence?

"Fine," she shook her head, "but not everyone wants the rug pulled from under them, even those who know they're going to die."

Did Kagome know she was going to die? He didn't think much about that. He didn't even entertain the thought of her surviving instead of him. Would he be okay with that? He looked away from the two adults and out the window. What prospects did she have to win? Barely any training in fighting, extremely kind almost to a fault. But her family wants her back. So she was trying.

Nowhere to look, Inuyasha stared at the carpet under his feet.

"Hey," Miroku called him.

Inuyasha looked up. "Yeah?"

"Go after her," Sango advised. "She's technically your partner until you reach the arena. Everything would be a lot easier if you two got along and she wasn't in a sour mood."

"Easy for what?" He asked resentfully. Sango opened her mouth and Miroku rolled his eyes. "She's not mad at _me_. She's mad at you."

Inuyasha immediately left. He wasn't sure how long he could stay in a room with those two. His main goal was to make it to his own room instead of consoling Kagome. While he didn't feel any animosity towards her, he's simply not comfortable with crying of any sort.

* * *

Inuyasha had been in his room for a while. When he first got there, he ransacked the whole place because it looked so nice. After that, he watched some TV, but he felt so disconnected from the content that he just turned it off. He had also left his room to check out the athletics section of the train, just for the fuck of it. In the end, he decided on a nap.

Now that he has woken up, he was trying to think of the most exotic and extravagant food to order from the chefs. His eating habits are sporadic and almost never particularly expensive. Right now, the food was not only fancy but _free_ , and Inuyasha was going to take full advantage.

There was a knock at the door. Maybe if he ignored it...the person will go away.

Another knock. _Ugh_. He decided to actually listen and decipher who it is.

Behind the door there was soft breathing. The person's clothes were rustling, a sign they were fidgeting.

"Okay," he heard her whisper to herself. There was a small tremor in her voice. "One more time."

He couldn't bring himself to be very irritated at his intruder anymore. It was Kagome.

"Come in," he called before she could knock again.

Clumsily, her hand accidentally jiggled the knob before she opened the door. He watched her enter. She definitely had been crying before. Her eyes were puffy and the tip of her nose was slightly reddened.

"Hi, Inuyasha," she gave him a smile. "I'm sorry for interrupting you. I know we haven't talked in awhile, and now we're basically being shipped off to die, but…"

Inuyasha didn't move, and just held her gaze. He didn't want to frighten her and stop her rambling.

"I don't know." She sighed and put a weary hand on her forehead. She paused for a minute, continuing to look back at him. She made herself speak. "Can I...hang out with you?"

She said it very quickly, very nervously. He could see her lean from one foot to the other, obviously itching to do _something_.

There was no reason why Kagome would cry if he told her no, but he didn't want to risk it.

"...Okay," he agreed. It wouldn't hurt. Maybe she'll have valuable opinions on food.

She finally stepped into his room and sat down on a chair adjacent to his bed. She was wringing her hands together.

"How are you?" He decided to ask.

"Um." Her eyes welled up immediately. He felt tricked. He thought she was done crying!

"I'm just nervous, that's all. I just wish I was more experienced. In everything."

He tilted his head in confusion. She chuckled ruefully.

"I don't know anything about defending myself. I know herbal remedies but I'm not used to fighting off people. And that means...that I could die as soon as we get in there, you know?"

He nodded, and her eyes closed tightly. He ran on pure instinct, and would probably continue to do so in the arena. But if he knew more, he could do better.

"And the thought of losing out on everything...I haven't even done substantial things. I haven't fallen in love, I-I haven't been able to see my brother graduate…"

 _Love._

"But you have your family." _And I don't._

She opened her eyes and searched his stare. She knew already what he'd been implying. It seemed even since they were children she understood what she had and he didn't.

"Yeah…" she looked down, "you're right. I know...and now I will never get to see them again, probably. I want to fight but I also just can't forget what would have to be done if I want to win the entire thing. Can I kill someone? Would I even be the same person if I did?"

Inuyasha hadn't thought that far at all.

"No one will be the same," he said bluntly.

Kagome went silent. She bit her lip.

"It doesn't matter to me," he continued, "If I'm coming back...I guess I'll do what I have to do."

"If you come back," she asserted, "you can live comfortably. More comfortably than anyone else in town, except Miroku, probably."

He would be paid a lump sum every month. He would be given a giant house to live in.

But it would be empty, save for him. So he told her this.

"You could fill it, Inuyasha. With anyone you consider family."

He was close to no one in Twelve. The house would remain empty. But he decided not to press the issue. If he comes back maybe he'll just be another Miroku. Drunk and sad over his empty house and full pockets.

"Are you scared, Inuyasha?"

He knew what she was asking in the first place, but he didn't want to face it. "Scared of what?"

"Going in there. Dying." She wasn't looking at him anymore, it looked like her eyes strayed to the wall behind him. Kagome was deep inside her head.

"I ain't scared of death. But I don't wanna die," He could withstand all kinds of pain, so that wasn't a problem. But he fought too hard for his shitty life for it to slip between his fingers. Inuyasha wants to live, he can't imagine dying now. "I won't let the _Capital_ fucking kill me. Not now. They've been trying to kill me for years."

"Me neither. The Capital doesn't care about the districts beyond Two," she stated with confidence, "But...I'm still scared." her words turned into a whisper, voice watery. Kagome's own reluctance acted like wet blanket. He was more than ready to fight for his own sake, because _who else would_ , but she's quivering in front of him.

"You want to see your family again, right? Who cares what Miroku says, then!" The words just came out, his own anger and frustration hard to contain. It wasn't only her that Miroku seemed to doubt, it was both of them. He basically told them to enjoy themselves before they die. _Fuck Miroku,_ Inuyasha swears to himself.

She swallowed and looked at him. Her eyes were clearly shining with threatening tears, to no avail. He watched her in return, anxiously listening for her response.

Inuyasha couldn't keep quiet. "You hungry?" He spat, trying to move on.

"I could eat something," her voice remained quiet.

"Good, 'cause I'm hungry." Being given the reins of the room wasn't as hard as he thought. If they got food, their moods wouldn't be so sour.

"Could we eat together?" Her face was slightly rosy.

"Sure, not like I'd wanna eat with _those two._ " Inuyasha gestured at his door and Kagome laughed, which was much better than tears.

"I second that. Miroku's like a zombie."

"Sango's a robot," he added.

"Maybe you have to become reserved like that," Kagome leaned back into the cushy chair she sat in, finally looking comfortable in his room, "or else all of this would just hurt too much."

It was a moment of enlightenment for Inuyasha because he didn't think of their side of the coin either. It was probably true, but he still can't forgive their attitude. "Feh."

"I'd better not get on your bad side, huh?" She had a smirk on her face.

Arrogance came over him and he snorted."Not sure about you, though."

"And what does that mean?" Her brows bent, she looked a little insulted. Maybe Inuyasha was mistaken. He might not be the only one with the short temper, it seems. "You _should_ be scared of my bad side."

He remembered the fight at the end of the train.

"I just think you forgive too easily," he corrected.

"Well," she sighed, "You might be right about that."

They just looked at each other, studying. Inuyasha felt like she was trying to pull him apart at the seams, hoping to reveal parts of him to learn _more_. He knows because he's doing the exact same thing.

"It's a lot easier to forgive sometimes," Kagome broke the silence with that tender voice she had earlier. Her eyes narrowed slightly and it seemed like she went to another place in her head again. "My grandfather taught me that."

"Let's order some noodles, Kagome." He wanted it to stop. She didn't protest.

"Okay."

* * *

"Oh, I'm _so_ sleepy." Kagome slurped the last bit of broth in her bowl. "I'm not even sure if I'm going to be hungry tomorrow."

"It's your weak human stomach," he berated, pointing a claw in her direction. "so tiny." She had one bowl, he was on his third.

She giggled, sinking deeper into the chair cushions and flopping her hands on her tummy. "My weak stomach has had enough."

He nodded, taking a scrumptious bite of a boiled egg. "I've had instant ramen before, but this stuff is better by a long shot."

Instant meals flowed like water in his house, and he bought them off the black market. The capital had something called ramen and he swore he ate it every day.

Kagome sat up, intrigued. She had the completely satisfied look of someone who just ate their fill and more. "You've had instant ramen?"

"Yeah, I buy it by the box and then just eat it all the time 'cause it's quick and I ain't going to learn how to cook." He was trying to grasp an elusive slice of pork in the bowl. It was hiding in his broth.

"That's really cool," she awed, "I've never had an instant meal before. My mom makes everything from scratch."

"Bigwigs in the Capital don't seem to have time to make shit fresh either. The black market sells a bunch, I'll show you."

It just slipped out of his mouth without his consent. His mind just assumed they'd be going home together. Kagome paused, but ignored it for his sake. A wide grin replaced her previously startled expression.

"I have a tactic for you. You might be able to swallow your enemies whole, Inuyasha."

Inuyasha looked up at her, and he smiled a little; a tweak at the corner of his mouth, really. Kagome shrugged at him with feigned innocence, as if to say ' _it's entirely plausible.'_ He chuckled. She smiled from ear to ear because of his reaction.

"You've got a pretty cute smile, Inuyasha."

He actually blushed at that. "Oh."

"Yeah." She laughed airily, shuffling in her seat a bit. She wouldn't look him in the eye again.

After a little bit of silence and a couple of embarrassingly loud soup slurps from him (why on earth did he keep eating), Kagome looked at the digital clock at his bedside and gasped. "It's so late!"

She stood up and walked toward the door. Inuyasha was startled by the quickness of her movements so much so that he didn't even get to glance at the clock to see if it actually was late. Her hand turned the knob and she stepped out halfway. Mid-step, she turned to him with a small smile.

"Thank you Inuyasha," her fist squeezed the doorknob and her knuckles went white, "I feel a lot better."

His mouth opened to say something back, but nothing came out and he closed it again. A huff of air came out of her nostrils and she grinned wider than before. "Goodnight."

"'Night, Kagome."

The door closed and he listened to her soft stride as she walked to her room beside his. He moved as soon as the door to her room clicked closed and checked the time. It was only 22:00. He peered down at his ramen and noticed he was full.

After Kagome left, it seemed his room was sapped of its liveliness. He didn't have the magnetism she seemed to carry with her like a token. He had nowhere to place his attention.

Inuyasha remembered how many friends she had in school, they came in waves.

When she first approached him when they were children, he was nothing short of shocked. They were 8, and she called over to him brightly, much to his dismay.

"Inuyasha!"

He tensed. Even then, Inuyasha swam in the clothes his family had for him. His mom was on the brink of death and he despised going to school and leaving her. But if he never went, the government would come and find her sick and remove him from her care. He sat in his classes in a state of unrest, tapping his foot anxiously as he looked at the clock. Inuyasha didn't want to go home and find his mother dead.

During lunch, he sat at the edge of the schoolyard fence, staring at the trees. There was nothing for him to eat. For such a long time, he watched the seasons change as the days went by. The leaves were red, then they fell. They grew back green and flowers sprouted. The cycle repeated.

His small body pressed into the fence beside him. No one really bothered him at school because he was a brat on purpose. He kept everyone away and he liked it.

It kept most people away. But not Kagome. So, her footsteps approached him.

"Want some?" When she was little, her hair was extremely short. It curled up at the edges ever so slightly, wishing to be long and wavy once again. 2 months before that moment, a boy in their class grabbed her ponytail and cut it off right at the crown of her head. Inuyasha remembered her sobs and how the teachers crowded around her, shushing her and rubbing her back as if she'd received a grave injury. Even adults loved her.

He remembered the vicious glare he gave her. His small hands dug into the dirt, getting ready to throw it at her; everything felt like a trap to him then. Inuyasha couldn't say whether or not that was the case for him now.

She swung her bright yellow backpack in front of her and he jumped at the movement. This was just to put it on the ground between them. She crouched and opened the bag. Since it was taking a while, she looked up and shrugged sheepishly in his direction. He grunted, staring suspiciously at her knapsack.

"Okay, here," She pulled out a boxed lunch and opened it. In there was what he believed to be a tuna sandwich, but he wasn't very sure. He sniffed it, and his nose confirmed what it was. Inuyasha's recollection took on a surreal atmosphere as he watched her break the food in half and hold out a piece for him. "This is for you."

She had broken it unevenly. The larger half became his without any hesitation from her.

"S'it poison?" He spat.

"No, it's just a yummy sandwich my mommy made," she smiled. "I thought you might want some."

"O-okay," he looked down at the fluffy bread that held tuna and lettuce. Before his stomach could even grumble, he took a bite. His body sang in rejoice at the nutrition, since it had been around an entire two days since he last ate. Being a half-demon helps, but it doesn't stop pangs of hunger.

"I hope you like it," she giggled and feasted.

His mom cried sometimes because their fridge was empty and she was bedridden. To soothe her, he swiped some one day from a shop that had food on display outside. He lied and told her he ate his portion on the way over.

It occurred to the young Inuyasha that Kagome had somehow become aware of his situation, and that realization was a painful one.

He squashed the sandwich in his hands and it became a messy clump. He remembered the embarrassment he felt, a festering feeling that gnawed at his subconscious. Inuyasha was not like other kids. He had no food. He didn't celebrate his birthday. No new school supplies for the new year. No treats for good behavior.

"Go away!" He snapped.

Kagome looked at him with her cheeks full. She was chewing.

"You heard me, girl? Get away from me!"

She swallowed and her expression suddenly changed. "Why?!"

"Because!"

"Eat the sandwich!" She stood up from her spot on the ground and stomped one of her feet. "I know you're hungry so eat it! And my name is not _girl,_ it's Kagome! Ka-go-me!"

"I'm not hungry!"

"You never have food!"

His stomach betrayed him, letting out a pitiful growl. He squashed the malleable bread further in his palm. Kagome stared at him, unconvinced. He met her eyes and his face flushed in embarrassment when her pointed gaze moved to his balled up fist. He looked at it as well.

When his hands opened to look down at the crumpled food in his palm, he savagely bit the whole piece without savoring it. He was ashamed to have to need help; he was ashamed that he wanted it. For the first time since his dad had died, tears spilled over from his eyes. His cheeks were full as he sniffled and whimpered. His eyes closed tightly in shame.

Even if his eyes were closed, he could feel the sudden overcast as Kagome stepped in front of him.

"I'm sorry, Inuyasha," he recalled her whisper, "I won't let them see you. I'm sorry, I won't tell anybody, I promise."

He finished chewing and still continued to cry. It was unreal. Kagome was right in front of him, she watched in silence, why did he allow himself to cry more?

Inuyasha shook away his thoughts as he fell back on the bed with a long-suffering sigh. He remembered his first real encounter with Kagome so well. After that intense moment, she'd split some of her lunch with him every day without his permission. But she never sat down to eat with him again.

He rolled over and looked at the door that she left from. Why was she always so helpful? He pushed his face into the blankets and groaned. They were doomed. This wasn't any chance to get to know her, if anything it was even worse if he got to know her now-they were probably going to die. Everyone was fucking betting on it.

He rose and paced his room, looking around at the luxuries that they were given before they're sent into a battlefield. His eyes glanced at the table and looked at the spread that they had been given. Like a last meal for people on death row.

He dropped into the chair. His body squishing into the cushions made her scent waft into his nose. His eyes closed tightly, and he noticed the chair was still warm with her body heat. He sank in and covered his face with his hands. This morning he thought he'd wake up tomorrow in his house, free from the Games for good.

If only that were true.

He slept restlessly that night.

* * *

Inuyasha was rudely woken up by violent knocking on his door. He grabbed one of his fluffy pillows and placed it over his head to muffle the noise.

"Rise and shine, kids!" Sango's voice boomed and she knocked on both doors. "We've got a lot of things to sort out today!"

He lifted the pillow away from his head to look at the door, offended. If looks could kill the stupid door would be toast.

The one time he actually gets to sleep in a comfortable bed and he's got to wake up at...what time was it? He scooched over to the edge of the mattress and blinked his eyes into focus. The clock said 10AM. He wants to die. He doesn't even feel like he slept for as many hours as he did.

In the other room, Inuyasha heard Kagome groan. He felt the kinship.

He pulled the covers over his face and closed his eyes momentarily. _Okay,_ he told himself. _Just get up and-_

The door opened without his permission.

Inuyasha burst from the blankets to give a vicious glare at anyone who dared to come in so abruptly. But there was Miroku, marginally more sober than yesterday. There was still the touch of alcohol on his breath, but his clothes were actually neat this time.

"Whoa, son, I didn't mean to interrupt your, well…" This man was sly, Inuyasha decided. He knew damn well that he wasn't masturbating! He was just trying to get the best of him, to trip him up, ruffle his feathers-

Consider Inuyasha's feathers ruffled.

"It's so early! I was still fucking sleeping," he growled in irritation. Miroku grinned. "Why didn't you wait a damn second?"

"I respect your right to privacy, but I'm asserting my right as your mentor by coming in anyway." He said with mock-sternness, hands on the hips.

"Miroku!" Sango yelled from Kagome's room.

"Yes, my love?" He called back. Really, the two of them had no sense of consideration. Not that Inuyasha did either. But he _just_ woke up.

"That is never funny in the morning!" She reprimanded. Miroku shrugged in response, not in the least bit remorseful.

"I'm really just bored. And we've got a couple conversations to have."

Inuyasha almost whispered goodbye to the comforting warmth of his blankets as he started to get up. Miroku had left to speak with Sango in the doorway for a brief period, saying "I'll take care of him, you got her, right?"

He stopped listening. Whatever, they were cattle. He'll accept it. He stood in the middle of his room and realized he didn't have any clothes for this journey. He looked around, opening a few bedside drawers and even a mini fridge in a last ditch for _something_ , but there was no clothes to be seen. Suddenly, Inuyasha felt very naked in his boxers and t-shirt.

He barely registered the soft closing of his door. "Your actual clothes will be here in a few minutes," Miroku commented. "We had to guess your sizes because the pair of you decided to storm off yesterday afternoon."

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "Like you didn't say something stupid to Kagome."

He shrugged in response. "It wasn't stupid, it was true. You two have all the odds against you. Her more than you, though."

He stayed silent at that.

"Now, don't be like that," Miroku pouted. "I want to be your friend instead of your enemy."

"You're already our enemy," he asserted. "You refused to help."

"Our enemy?" Miroku smirked knowingly. "Maybe Kagome's, based on that criteria. Take off that scowl and listen to me carefully."

"Keh," he spat, turning his head and looking at the wall.

"While I am certain Kagome is the more likable one out of the two of you…"

Inuyasha was okay with that. He didn't strive to be considered likable.

"I'm not looking to be _your_ enemy, Inuyasha." Miroku pointedly walked around the room and into his line of vision, forcing Inuyasha to look back at him.

Oh. _Oh_. He chose him. He's not even considering Kagome as competition. The unforgiving reality of the situation made him uncomfortable. Miroku's expression was poised, amused even, but it held no promise. If Inuyasha were to humor him...it'd make no difference in Miroku's life.

"So you want to be my friend." The word friend meant almost nothing to Inuyasha, but Miroku's proposition transformed the word from something maybe he could hope for into something dirty.

"Yes." He took a seat on the bed.

"But what good is a friend that you assume will be dead in the next 2 months?"

He shrugged, again. "This is assuming you'll be killed. But. Very bittersweet, yes."

"Bittersweet, my ass." Inuyasha just grunted and sat down in Kagome's chair. Well, it wasn't really hers, but...

"You can snort and sigh at every little thing I tell you, but I think we both know why I'm betting on you."

"'Cause I'm a half-demon." He has claws. He can smell much better than the average human. He can see at night. He heals incredibly quickly.

"Oh, more than that," Miroku shrugged. "I'm no stranger to what you've done for everyone in our little town."

"How?" Since he's a victor, he's wealthy-there's absolutely no reason why Miroku would ever need his services.

"I listen, which is a very valuable trait that I suggest you acquire," Miroku had an annoying smirk on his face.

"You can listen when you're drunk out of your mind?" He hoped the smirk would disappear.

"I'm not inept." It didn't.

"Coulda fooled me." Inuyasha rolled his eyes.

"I get my good alcohol illegally; I hear the whispers of your name. I know you're somewhat of a emissary…"

"Emissary?" He didn't know every word under the sun.

"Doing whatever people are paying you to do, no specific specialty."

Okay, he got that.

"...Well, you're a hunter, I guess. I've seen you protect multiple people, too."

Inuyasha bit his lip, refraining from mentioning that he protected those people for free.

"Either way, you've got a good resume," Miroku shrugged, "and I'm hoping you could take the cake."

"You're going to ignore Kagome?"

"Not exactly. We're going to still help her present herself in the best possible light."

"Kagome doesn't need help with that," he grumbled.

"Probably. But she still needs polishing nonetheless. We're going to be coaching her as much as we can, but when it comes to sponsorships…"

"What are sponsorships?" He sort of knew, but wasn't sure.

"People pay to help you win. You need a medication because of an infection? John Doe just might cover the cost for one to be sent to you immediately because you said something he liked."

"But you just said Kagome is more likable!"

"And that's still true," he sighed, "She's strikingly pretty. Comes from a humble family that is known for giving to the community."

He nodded in agreement.

"But I've decided to focus my energy on you. So when I advocate for you, I might get money to dedicate to you."

Immediately, he thought of Kagome in the arena. Sick, crying. Bloody, maybe. Alone and no help to be found.

"This is all if Sango agrees with my plans. I'm sure she likes Kagome more already just based on the fact that she volunteered in place of a young girl. Thankfully Sango is a realist, and will probably come to agree with me that focusing on you will be best."

"I don't want it," he barked. "I refuse."

There was a knock at the door and Miroku moved to answer it. Once it opened, he took a pile of clothes from a person's hands and turned to Inuyasha.

"I think you're a medium. You're sort of lean, but not skinny enough for a small. I got the same size for your joggers."

Miroku's pile looked like a white and grey mass. He placed it on the bed. Why wasn't he answering his demands?

"You're under the illusion that this, in some way, involves choice. A system like this wouldn't be in place if there was _choice_.

You can deny the sponsored items. You could ignore my advice. But in the end, what you're doing is pushing away something that Kagome probably won't even have the opportunity to utilize in the first place. What a waste that would be."

He felt shamed.

"Take your time in the shower. Come out for breakfast when you're done, because we're all eating together."

With that, Miroku shut the door with a firm hand as he left the room.

Sluggishly, he got up and opened his drawers for a towel. Once he found one, he loaded his arms with the outfit Miroku picked out for him and headed off to the bathroom.

As he exited his room, another door opened and steam curled out from the edges of the cherry colored door. He could smell expensive oils and fragrant soaps without even trying. The smells were a little strong for his sensitive nose, causing him to sniffle and sneeze, his eyes screwing tightly shut.

"Oh, Inuyasha. Good morning."

He should have known Kagome was the one getting out of the shower. Who else was in their car but her? Her talk with Sango must have been much shorter than his and Miroku's, probably filled with awkward pleasantries instead of palpable hostility.

Her hair was wet, the shiny black tendrils flat against her head waving at the ends. She had a white t-shirt like him, the same sweatpants completing the look as well. Her smile was sheepish at best.

"I think you'll like the shower," she smiled genuinely this time, "the water is actually hot. I had to keep changing the temperature back and forth because I wasn't used to it."

"Okay," he mumbled.

"See you at breakfast!"

He walked into the bathroom, she walked into her room.

The white walls were still covered in cloudy steam, distorting his vision momentarily. Inuyasha walked by the mirror and wiped the fog from it.

His blurry silhouette vanished, a clear reflection replacing it. He doesn't do much for his appearance, it was a useless effort. His hair looked unkempt; there were some bags under his eyes that will soon disappear. His encounter with Miroku appeared evident in his expression. It was like his eyebrows were permanently bent.

Maybe if he gets clean he'll feel better. After some embarrassing struggles, he's able to get the temperature on the side of bearable and gets in the shower.

* * *

In the middle of his shower, Inuyasha realizes he's washing the remnants of District 12 from his body.

* * *

"Kagome, you like pancakes?" Is the first thing Inuyasha hears Sango say with a much kinder tone than yesterday or this morning.

"Mm," she nodded with a smile, chewing. She swallowed with a satisfied 'ah' and politely addressed Sango's question fully. "I like a lot of sweet things."

"I prefer saltier things," Sango's face screwed up a little at the mention of sweets. "Pancakes are good, though. With less syrup."

Kagome laughed.

He'd just walked into the dining room, finding a seat open for him at the table next to Kagome. He sat down. The breakfast spread was unimaginable, each bit of food looking delicious and fresh: tamagoyaki, fresh fruit, white rice, salmon, natto, miso soup...there was no way that three humans could finish the giant meal.

Kagome cut into her stack of pancakes cleanly and swiped the bite in some syrup. The molasses was glistening on the fluffy morsel, aching to be eaten.

"Want some?" The bite was for _him._ "They taste really good."

Kagome had graduated from sharing her food with him to offering her fork, which _she had used_ , to his mouth. His face flushed. She noticed and opened her mouth in a noiseless gasp.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I'll get you a clean fork so you could try it."

Kagome did the same as before with a fresh utensil, presenting it to him. Never one to deny food, he took the fork and let the buttery pancake melt on his tongue. The sugary syrup delighted his taste buds.

"You like it," she laughed when he nodded heartily, "want to share my plate?"

There were no other pancakes on the table for him to have his own stack.

"U-uh." He frantically scanned the table for something to stuff in his mouth. Rice! He grabbed the small dish in what he hoped was a composed manner. "No thanks, I'm going to have this."

She seemed to remember herself as her hand slowly moved down near her plate and let out an embarrassed laugh.

She sliced herself a new bite and he ate the plain rice, which made any sweet taste Kagome had just shared with him disappear.

"Ahem," Miroku broke the silence. "I'm going to give the two of you some very basic advice before we continue on this journey."

"Miroku…" Sango warned in an exasperated tone, rightfully anticipating a callous remark.

"It's good advice," he offered her and she rolled her eyes.

"You two have watched the games, right? Well, of course you have at some point or another."

He continued on.

"Do _not_ go to the cornucopia. It seems like a good idea because there are provisions and weapons there, but it's a hotspot to get killed in the first five minutes of the games."

Inuyasha had no real reason to go to the cornucopia because of his strengths, so he began to tune him out and take in the surrounding room. Sango's facial expression turned from frustrated to impressed. Kagome was listening with wide eyes, her lower lip being half-bitten into her mouth. She nodded occasionally, as well.

Miroku was staring straight at him the whole time not giving attention to Kagome. _Really?_ How obvious, how fucking rude, how _dare_ he-

Inuyasha pointedly looked away from his mentor.

"You could make allies but you already know that if you're going to win then they'll have to die. And I guarantee that the tributes from the lower districts are ready to burn bridges without question."

In the first 4 Districts, winning the hunger games was a token of glory. People actively volunteered for the role of tribute every year in Two. Most of those kids are formally trained and comfortable with violence already so they may take home the honor of being a victor.

"Also, the work you do on the outside is almost, if not more, important than your actions in the arena. If you impress people, they will use their loads of cash to help you."

"Yeah," Kagome spoke, too drawn in to notice Miroku's blatant disregard of her, "Sango told me about that."

"Since you're going to be training in the Capital," Sango continued for Miroku, "Miroku and I will be meeting with the both of you one on one daily to work on how we will present your image. Everybody fits a role."

"Strategy is your best friend here," he finished.

"Do either one of you have any talents that will help you in the arena?" Sango asked.

Everyone exchanged awkward gazes, not wanting to break the taboo and mentioning the lack of experience in the room.

"Inuyasha is really good at hunting," words rushed out of Kagome. Miroku's expression was all knowing, while Sango appeared enlightened and nodded in interest. It seems Sango didn't know that going out of bounds of District 12 and hunting was actually illegal. "Everyone in town buys from him, even the richer areas. He's also really strong."

"You knew this, Miroku?"

"Yeah. Inuyasha always catches the best fish, too."

"Hmmm," she pondered, "This is good for you."

"Can't believe you weren't going to mention that," Kagome commented, waving her fork in his direction. "A lot of the people in the District really rely on you, you know."

His mouth gaped for a moment. It was his choice not to comment! He never asked her to vouch for him. It was supposed to be a free-for-all, anyway. It's like she was plotting against herself!

"This is good to hear. Maybe we could spin it so he's somewhat of a robin hood."

"Who's Robin Hood?" Kagome asked.

"A folk character who robs from the rich and steals for the poor." Okay, Inuyasha was _not_ that virtuous. He was just trying to live his life.

"You think the Capital would take kindly to a tribute that disobeys the law? I think you'd better think again," Miroku shook his head.

Why, again, is everyone speaking like he's not even there? Even Kagome was in on it!

"What about you?" Inuyasha barked.

It was Kagome's turn to open her mouth dumbly. Her lips closed in a thin line, and her brows bent in concentration. She shook her head. "I know how to work with plants," she trailed off with a shrug, "so I could protect myself that way..."

"Keh," he spat. _Why is she ta_ _lking about leaves?_

"What do you mean 'keh'?!" Her frustrated face was, for some reason, cute. Her cheeks flushed and her lips looked even poutier when she sneered.

"Kagome knows how to use a bow and arrow," he stared at their poor excuses for mentors as he spoon-fed them information, "she's been in the archery club since we were young. She's good at speakin' to people, too. And that herbal healing bullshit."

Kagome squaked in indignation.

"See, wench," he hissed in her direction, "you're not gonna be the only one throwin' me under the bus."

"I'm just trying to make sure everybody knows what you can do!"

"Well, same!"

"Throwing under the bus?" Sango's voice yelled in exasperation, "You two are practically fighting one another because of _compliments_!"

He and Kagome shot a look at Sango, trying to do the math in their heads about her claim. Kagome disregarded it first to continue her spitfire.

"And how did you know I was in the archery club?"

"I remember it!" he defended quickly, "The quiver stuck out of your stupid backpack every day!"

Her mouth clamped shut and she continued to stare in his direction. Her eyes were vividly scanning all of his features, irises flickering to different parts of his face. Abruptly, he saw her face redden even more, and she looked away quickly.

"Well. _Oh._ " She said dryly.

"Oh?" He echoed.

"You two are going to give me indigestion," Sango sighed into her hands. Kagome stayed quiet, so he followed suit. "I can feel it. You don't think Miroku isn't already enough?"

Miroku gave a real chuckle, nothing like the condescending tones he'd been using all day. His hand pulled Sango closer by the waist and he rested his head on her shoulder. "My dear," the deep voice of his purred, "I don't wish to stress you out."

The hands on her face slid up and trailed into the fringe of her bangs. "You're a good liar most of the time, Miroku."

And he just laughed when she shoved him away from her.

Kagome and Inuyasha shared a look of confusion. Kagome then rolled her eyes and smiled softly.

"C'mon, we have some talking to do," Miroku gestured to Kagome. She got up, and they started to walk out the room.

He needed to know what was happening.

He moved to get up himself, but Sango called out to him.

"Inuyasha, stay. Miroku will go speak with Kagome for a bit."

"Goodbye, my loves," the man in question stood up and waved at them. Inuyasha made a gagging noise and Sango shooed him away. "Hopefully Kagome accepts my love before I wither away."

"Keep dreaming," he found himself muttering after Miroku already closed the door behind him.

The door opened again and Inuyasha jumped. Did he hear him?

"Forgot this," Miroku kneeled down and opened the mini fridge. He pulled out a flask and left right after.

"I hate when he drinks," Sango sighed. "He's sloppy."

"Seen it 365 days of the year," he shrugged.

"Well, we better focus on something more productive, like basic manners."

Inuyasha was leaning back on the chair, making it teeter on its hind legs while he supported his dangling weight with his feet.

"First of all," she pointed at the wooden chair, "stop that. It's mahogany. Also, it's impolite."

He allowed the chair to fall forward ungracefully, so the sound of the front legs hitting the ground made a loud _thunk_ as the porcelain dishes and silverware rattled on the table. He watched her face twitch in frustration. "Why do I need manners anyway? 'M only gonna be in the Capital for a week and a half."

"It's like insurance. If I teach you now, I might not have to teach you if you win. It would impress potential sponsors if you were courteous as well. And you have that interview with Jakotsu."

Sango watched him scowl. "Oh no, you _have_ to do well for the interview. It's on TV!"

"They took everything from me," he growled, "I'm not gonna kiss their ass and be proper."

"You have to survive, so you have to do some ass-kissing! Quit being so obstinate!" she fired back.

Inuyasha didn't expect Sango to yell. "Who's being proper now?" He felt validated at her affronted expression. _Good_ , he thought. He wanted her to realize she was a hypocrite.

"Kagome's much nicer than you, you know that?" He certainly did. And he didn't care.

"I suppose your training with her's going to be a fucking breeze!" He stood up. He didn't want the advice!

"I'm helping _you_ right now, so stop complaining and try actually listening to me!"

"I'm not giving them what they want." His voice was soft, barely a protest.

"Tough luck, Inuyasha," Sango spat. "Take the lesson. Stop acting childish."

"Fine," he groaned and crossed his arms childishly before he sat down in the chair again. He thought about storming out and ignoring everybody until it was all over, but he imagined the disappointed look Kagome might give him.

"You don't need to change how you act completely; you just need to behave with a semblance of decency. That means no random cursing at the interview, that means no fidgeting in your chair, and that _definitely_ means less yelling."

"I don't yell," he defended, "I just talk loudly."

* * *

After a little taste of hell with Sango, it was time to meet with Miroku again. Inuyasha wondered what that would be like, but soon he realized that he was better off not trying to picture it.

"Sit down," Miroku insisted, already sitting, already speaking with a bit of a slur. "We've got a lot of awkward things to get over."

"I don't like the sound of that," he said honestly as he sat down.

"To put it bluntly, we need to talk about how you'll be presented to the media. How can we make a guy like you win hearts?"

"You better give that shit up, I'm not charmin' anybody." Miroku rolled his eyes, and Inuyasha pressed on. "I already told Sango. It's gonna go bad."

"Your bravado is wearing me out," he sighed theatrically, "I already know you're not the charmer."

He said nothing in response to that. If he knows, then why push it?

"Maybe we can project you as an alpha male." Inuyasha's face screwed up like he ate something sour. Miroku smiled. "Make you really cliché, people will eat it up."

"How?"

"Can you be sexy?" Miroku asked as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

" _Sexy?"_ Inuyasha gaped. He said no to being charming so now he has to be sexy? "Yes, maybe growl a little bit, rock the dog thing..." Miroku started to talk with his hands as well, obviously getting into the one-sided brainstorming session he's created.

"No, _no,"_ he hated every second of this, "I'm not _rocking the dog thing_. That's fucking idiotic. I'm not doing anything, especially for you or those brain-dead Capital citizens!"

"I could rely on that kind of anger for this, you know." Miroku scolded, "You can't escape it."

"Ugh." He put his face in his hands.

"You're definitely the broody type," he nodded to himself. "All grunts, perpetual scowl…"

"Feh!" Inuyasha removed his hands and stared at Miroku angrily. Just because he was right doesn't mean he has to like it.

"Your past is shrouded in mystery; all we know is that you're a hurting soul that can be healed..." He said in a wondrous voice.

The resentful feelings he felt towards the officials in the Capital bubbled up again. He was denied by the nation of Panem all of his life, left to starve and to die. Treated like shit by its residents because he was a half-demon. And now here he was, being told my Miroku that he had to cater to the place that cultivated the system he despises. Being exploited feels ugly.

"You won't have to do a thing, Inuyasha," the tilt of his smile promised something sinister, "I can do all the work for you if you're not going to cooperate."

"I'm leaving," he said emphatically as he got up, letting the chair he was sitting on scrape violently against the floor. "Fuck you, fuck _this-_ Bye."

"See you tomorrow, bright and early!" Miroku called out as he slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Inuyasha didn't want to go to his room. People would be able to find him there. He began to walk down the hallways of each car, gunning for the end-far away from most people.

Belatedly, he realized that his crazy mentors could find him _anywhere_ , because they were all stuck inside one long ass train that was growing to feel more like a prison each passing minute. It was annoying, he was beyond irritated. He was sure to yell at any person he came across.

When he threw open the door to the scenic cabin at the end of the train, Kagome was there. She jumped when he entered and her startled expression softened immediately when she saw who he was.

 _Stop it_ , he was jarred; his mind was racing, _Don't look at me like we can be friends._

"What are you doing here?" His voice came out accusing, but she didn't seem to mind.

"I can't be here?" She countered with a raised brow. He watched the line of her posture stiffen, ready for a fight. His mouth stayed shut and she continued. "What are you doing here?"

He sat down in a huff. "Just tryna find a place to be alone."

"I'm not leaving," she insisted.

"I wasn't asking you to," he defended sharply. She simply looked away, a cry from the friendly demeanor she carried yesterday. "I'm not leaving either."

They sat in silence. He saw her shift in her seat through his peripheral vision. Her hands were gripping the fabric of her sweatpants at her knee. Was that just something she did when she was upset? Inuyasha looked away, sighing audibly as he leaned back into the couch cushions. His eyes scanned the bleak coloring of the walls around him, moving up to the ceiling of the car. Since it was the end of the train, the room was dome-like, coming to a point with a hanging chrome light in the middle. It was all industrial, minimal, stylish-probably.

"Are you…" Kagome started. He looked at her, but she wasn't looking back. Her gaze was down at her knees, to her fidgeting hands. "Are you okay?"

She was looking at him now; it was a piercing, almost _hopeful_ kind of gaze-as if she was expecting something. Every time she did that he felt weary.

Was Inuyasha okay? Sango and Miroku wanted him to play nice. Well, Miroku wanted him to attract people, as if he understands how to do that. All he's done in eighteen years was repel people.

In about three weeks, he and Kagome, the only person he can sort of consider a friend, will enter an arena with 22 other tributes. 23 are going to die; only one will live.

Inuyasha is not okay. But, he never was.

"I'm okay," he lied.

Her hands released her pants. Her eyes left his. "Me too."

She wasn't. It was obvious in her demeanor, but he will gladly let the elephant in the room stay for as long as it wants if she's willing to.

Kagome sighed and adjusted herself in her seat. There was silence again.

"I'm going to go to my room." She rose lethargically, as if the energy in her body had been sucked out for the day. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Inuyasha."

He thought of the time when they were little again, at school. When she cried because someone cut her hair off. The teachers and kids that began to surround her like disciples.

Kagome, always, vibrated energy. If she was happy, a piece of her happiness was given to everyone. If she was sad...everyone felt it. Now, Inuyasha can tell, Kagome was visibly uncomfortable, probably upset with how her conversations went with Sango and Miroku-and he's about to let her walk away without doing something about it.

"Kagome!" He called abruptly.

She turned and looked at him, a perplexed expression on her face. All of her attention was on him. It was a chance.

"Yeah?" The tone of her voice was gentle.

"Are you really…um," he hesitated because he was nervous to ask. If she were to tell him how she was really feeling, would he even be able to comfort her? "Are you really okay?"

Her smile was bittersweet. "Yeah, Inuyasha. I'm okay. Don't worry about me."

His mouth opened to protest but nothing came out.

"Make sure you worry about yourself."

His face twisted into a frown, and Kagome was already walking out of the room. He knew she was evading, in fact, he was a little angry that she threw his own circumstances in his face.

He still regretted not saying anything at all.

* * *

 **NOTES:** My very good friend Ashley helped me extensively to edit this chapter, so kudos to her for being the greatest. The Hunger Games is one of my all time favorite book series, so it's safe to say I enjoyed writing this! Contact me on tumblr at doginabirdcage if you want to chat!


	2. Dreams

"Kagome! Wake up!" Small hands pounded away on her back, quickly bringing her back to life from sleep. She didn't want to get up.

"Sshhh, Rin," Kagome whined, pressing her face into the pillow as she tried to adjust her position on the cot with Rin sitting at the edge. She gave her real bed to Sota when he started high school. "Let me sleep a little longer."

"Aw, but it's a surprise!" Rin said everything was a surprise.

" _Please_ ," she implored. "I'm tired."

Swift footsteps approached before the door to the room was swung open. "Can't wake her up, Rin?"

Sota's voice was deeper, and it was unnerving. Her brother is getting older in front of her face. She wishes for the cracking noise she used to hear when he spoke.

"Kagome!" His voice was excited. "You gotta wake up, it's a surprise."

"Not you, too!"

"Seriously. This is real."

Reluctantly, she rolled out of bed and followed her siblings. She left the bed messy so she can settle back in later.

They walked into the warmth of her kitchen, sunlight brightening the entire room. Although they had little, her mother never failed to make it feel like home. Sota walked ahead of her and opened up their icebox, revealing a basket of fruits.

"Oh my goodness!" Much more awake now, Kagome ran over and looked at the glossy delicacies. There was a red apple that looked so crisp that Kagome's mouth watered at the thought of sinking her teeth into it.

"Gramps got these from a family he helped out last week. He just gave some away to people in the neighborhood, so these are all ours." His tone was filled with wonder and laced with the same amount of anticipation that Kagome felt. She ached to eat that apple.

"I told you it was a surprise, Kagome!" Rin reached between them and grabbed herself a pear. Sota chuckled and swiped an orange from the pile.

She reached her hand down into the box, letting the cool air soothe her fingers. She grasped the smooth apple and ran her thumb across its vibrant crimson skin, taking pleasure in its simplicity. Its reassuring, _real_ weight felt like gold in her hands.

As soon as she brought it to her lips, she bared her teeth and bit.

And then her eyes opened.

* * *

Kagome woke up with a start, bleary eyes staring at the dark ceiling of her room inside the train. Her hands had gripped the blanket fiercely as she got used to breathing again, trying to readjust to the reality before her.

The dream felt so tangible. She can still feel the foamy texture of the apple in her mouth, the juice on her tongue.

She closes her eyes with a sigh of relief, letting the tension leave her body before dropping back onto the luxurious bed she's been sleeping on for the past week and a half. She's finally gotten used to the abundance of comfort. The first night she couldn't get to sleep until four in the morning because she was used to the firmness her cot provided and the limp pillow she had been using since her childhood.

Kagome tried her hardest not to act cranky the next day. But in the end, she went and slept the rest of the day away by noon.

Her eyes wandered around her temporary room. She was disquieted by how the room was so fine yet crude. It was well decorated and its furniture looked expensive, but it was also devoid of life or character. A blank slate for any helpless tribute to walk into. The overcompensation for her mortal fate tugged her heart relentlessly.

Her eyes honed in on the shape of her family's archery ring that sat on the dresser. Pointed up, the dull silver has muddied with generations of use. Her grandfather hugged her tightly and slipped the ring into the pocket of her skirt on the day of the Reaping and told her that nothing was impossible.

Kagome did not know the ring she knew so well was on her person. It sat in her pocket until the firm metal pressed against her thigh uncomfortably when she threw herself on the horribly soft bed to cry.

She felt it and hastily retrieved the sign of home. She pressed its pointed edge in the middle of her palm, squeezing it tightly in both hands as tears fell.

 _Nothing is impossible,_ she had recalled then. Now she looked at it every day before she faced everyone else on the train.

Not sure if she could fall back asleep tonight, Kagome rose from her bed and found her slippers.

 _I'll go to the kitchen and get some water to calm myself down,_ she thought rationally, _and maybe an apple._

Opening her door as quietly as she could in order to not bother Inuyasha with the noise, she strolled out of her room with a silent gait. This included a rather silly looking maneuver on her tiptoes. One of her hands skimmed the wall as she walked, to which she found not a ridge of texture where the builders might have failed in creating the monster of a train. No dust came off on her palms, either. Everything perfect for the Capitol.

There were lights along the floor as she walked, very dim but bright enough for anyone to be able to find their way. Kagome found it funny, as the train is vertical in the first place—no hallways to get lost in. She approached the kitchen door, which had a helpful plaque that depicted some utensils. Merely pushing the free-swinging door to get inside, she scanned the room.

Fluorescent lights turned on because of her movement. It scared her the first time she went looking for snacks, but now the technology seemed commonplace to her. The whole room was a wash of metallic silver, with accents of whatever accessories were on the stone counters. It was the coldest place in the train, always causing Kagome to hug her body for scraps of warmth.

She walked around and looked for her craving, forgetting the water. "Fruits, fruits, fruits…" Kagome whispered a chant, speaking the food into existence. In the very corner of the area was a tall, woven basket that held the treasure she sought and more.

There was an apple at the top of the pile, calling her. There was one of every type: green, yellow, candy red, dark red, and mixtures of these colors. Apples have names, she learned that in first grade. She doesn't remember them now. Kagome wanted a red one, the same kind that she tasted in her dream.

But she wouldn't eat more than one, although there was an array of choices. She had learned her lesson the first time she ate food on the train. She felt nauseated that night, and not only because she called Inuyasha _cute_. Her stomach was heavy with more food than she had ever consumed in her seventeen years of living, and it was a lot to adjust to. When she told Sango the next day, the woman implored her that she took her time when she ate.

She wanted to enjoy the finer things in spite of an expiration date on the opulence she had been introduced to, but her mind still constantly recalls the starving people in Twelve while her body put on more weight.

Kagome closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

She picked up her food and took note of the white shine the overhead lights gave to the apple. For the second time, she bites it, closing her eyes and chewing slowly.

When her lids lifted, the gloomy atmosphere of the kitchen settled into her skin like grease. It was unwanted. The nectar in her mouth tastes sickly sweet, similar to the cheap candies she'd buy with Sota whenever she found a coin on the ground. Kagome missed her family more than anything; she missed her siblings most of all.

Imagining Sota and Rin without her was the kind of reality she didn't want to bear. Sota was two years younger but he was Kagome's best friend. They developed side by side, experienced the same hardships, agreed on almost everything. No matter how many connections she could make in Twelve, they all paled in comparison to the kind of ease that came with hanging out with her family. Rin was always sweet and talkative, bringing soothing light into the worst of the times at the Higurashi household. Kagome didn't want to see that light go out, let alone in a death match.

Sighing, she began the walk back to her quarters. _S_ he munched on the snack in her hand as she walked, letting her mind wander to the Games, which were never very far.

She'd have to practice her archery like mad once they're in the training center. It was no contest. Her mother always told her that she can shoot halfway decent, but her aim is always a little off. Kagome had also been trying to meditate regularly during her time on the train in order to help her channel her spiritual energy when the time comes. The results were nonexistent.

She entered her room and flopped back onto her bed. The apple rolled from her hand, only mostly eaten. She looked at her ceiling, which was finely decorated with a swirling pattern she couldn't identify. _I know I have it,_ she has blessed more houses and exorcised more spirits in Twelve than she can count, _but how can I use it?_ Her powerful aura mocked her mercilessly each time she tried to utilize it. The fact that she can't call upon her own energy was proof of incompetence.

Even if she polished her archery skills, Kagome would have to face going to the cornucopia once the Games began. Miroku strictly advised her not to, but she already wasn't sure about trusting Miroku ever since his patronizing speech. Even during "strategy" meetings with him Kagome noticed how little he cared about her. She was almost completely alone. Her stomach lurched in fear. She knew that more than half the tributes can die in those first moments, all over much needed supplies. But arrows were a necessity.

She was scared. _Imagine what it's like to die in the first five minutes, disappointing everyone,_ Kagome wondered morbidly. It was the moment when the herd was thinned out to show the Games' real competitors. Was she a real competitor? Could she grab a quiver filled with arrows and a bow when another person is trying to put a knife in her back? Could she kill to get what she needed?

Her grandpa had tried to get her used to death; it was the life of the only minister in town, her parish to inherit. Praying over sickly people and over the recently deceased was routine—but Kagome has never been able to shake her conscience whenever she sees an ailing person. People are malleable creatures, who can be stomped out rather easily. She's seen people die in the middle of a psalm, holding her grandfather's hand. She would always stop in moments like that, but her grandfather would harshly whisper that _they must keep going_.

The verdict was that Kagome is probably going to have to kill someone, but _how can I live with myself after?_

She bets Inuyasha doesn't have to worry about the cornucopia at all. He has claws. _Probably good eyesight for the dark, too. And sharp ears…_

Kagome's mind conjures up his twitching ears and bright eyes unbidden. Her face reddens immediately, heart swelling in her chest. She wipes the image from her mind without preamble. She _cannot_ do that anymore.

If she didn't win, she hopes Inuyasha does. He'll be reluctant, but if anybody deserved to live with an absurd amount of wealth after a life of poverty, it would be him.

Death haunting her every thought, Kagome closed her eyes tightly to banish her feelings. She is going to fight until her dying breath. She _will_ see Sota again. She _will_ see Rin again. She _will_ see her mother and grandfather and…

Kagome missed them so much. A trembling gasp burst from her lips; tears poured from her sealed lids despite her best efforts. They drip back past her temple and into her hair. Her chest was unreasonably tight, keeping her from breathing properly. Her mouth opened in an effort to bring air into her body, but her lungs felt plugged up. Her hand rested on her chest to prove to herself she was functioning. The best way to calm herself was to take note of her ribs rising and falling like normal even though her face was hot and rosy from anxiety.

 _It's okay,_ she soothed herself.

Rolling over into the downy quilt beneath her, she sobbed piteously. Her shoulders hunched as she pressed herself further into her bed, trying to hide from what was to come. Her small cries made her body quake.

"I don't want this," she whispered. Her mind reached a sudden blankness with her statement, and she kept her face in the bedding, allowing all of her parts to catch up with one another. After a few minutes of relaxation, Kagome felt tired.

 _That's one way to get yourself back to bed,_ her face smushed into the fabric to wipe the wetness from her cheeks, _uncontrollable sobbing. Good, Kagome. You'll win the Games just yet!_

Kagome sat up groggily and her body felt weighted with cement. Shaking her head vigorously, the lethargy left her somewhat. The dip in the bed that her hips created made her apple roll towards her thigh, sticky and moist against her.

"Oh," she said curiously before she picked it up. The flesh of the apple had turned a light muddy brown; oxygen had taken its course. It looked completely unappealing now, useless.

When did she start to relate to apples?

Languidly, she rose up and threw away the apple in her trash, the fruit reaching the bottom with a thud. She sat back down on the mattress and tucked herself in. Once her head hit the pillow, her eyelids immediately weighed on her, leading her into sleep.

 _Nothing will ever be the same,_ she thinks halfheartedly.

* * *

Her dreamless sleep was rudely interrupted by firm knocks on her door. Each time Sango's fist made contact with the wood the pound resonated in Kagome's head.

"Come in," she said meekly, falsely. She wanted to tell her to leave.

"Time to get up, Kagome," Sango says as she walked into the room. "It's a big day."

Kagome sat up in a slouch and then glanced at Sango. Remembering who she was with, she made herself sit up straight. "Yes, I remember."

She eyed her up and down, and Kagome felt a little exposed. She must have looked tired, or worse, _like she'd been crying._ Sango's expression said it all. Her face held a waning smile, growing into something forced, something to cheer her up.

She must have looked absolutely like she had cried last night, and probably much more.

"We will have a good time today," Sango offers in a tender tone. "The song isn't over just yet."

She pondered Sango's words- _the song isn't over_. It hurt her, mostly. Kagome had noticed a couple days ago that Sango placed her bets on Inuyasha as a potential winner. It was a poorly kept secret. Kagome could tell that Sango was a genuine woman and had a hard time masking her true emotions, especially guilt.

Right before she walked in to dinner, she saw Miroku and Sango whispering harshly at the dining table. Her face was twisted with grief, fist clenched. Miroku was picturesque, calm as stone. Seconds after she stepped in, Sango's eyes darted over to hers. Kagome smiled awkwardly, and Sango's expression turned somber. Watching her turn to Miroku and whisper an affirmation made everything obvious.

She wished they'd be smarter about it. _At least try a little harder to pretend you're rooting for me too,_ she almost said to them bitterly. She was being forgotten, losing the small amount of favor she garnered in the beginning.

Kagome realized quickly that she cannot hold hands with Miroku and Sango to the finish line. The odds are not in her favor.

"We will have a good time today," she repeated her mentor incredulously. She lifted her crinkled quilt and moved it out of the way. It was so soft that no sound was heard as it fell back on the bed. Kagome's feet met a downy beige carpet. The fibers tickled between her toes, providing grip and a false sense of security, much like the entire train they stayed in. "I wonder what we'll be doing."

That was a lie. She knows that she's going to spend her first day in the Capitol being groomed to perfection. Kagome has always followed the games closely, not just because she was forced to. Every time a resident of Twelve was taken to the games, Kagome had to watch their journey. Morbid curiosity would infect her, and she could not bring herself to look away. Each year, the hope was the same: _maybe they'll win._

The last couple of Games, the tributes from Twelve were some of her closest friends. Last year, it was Ayumi. Before, it was Eri. Kagome had wished so badly that they could win and come home. She felt rather selfish for that, because both were given little to no attention once the games began and even during the promotional period. It was like their fate was decided before they stepped in the arena.

 _That will be me. No one will notice._

Her heart clenched in fear and empathy for her beloved friends who met their demise so harshly. Eri took an axe to the neck, someone told her the next morning. Kagome had covered her eyes instinctively when it happened the night before, and she was a little ashamed at her cowardice. It was disrespectful not to pay attention to Eri's final seconds. But Kagome told herself it was all disrespectful. It was sick to watch murders on a television screen. To be recording it with a camera and doing nothing.

Ayumi's death was too slow for Kagome to shield herself from-she died sick, stashed away from her competitors and rotting by the day. It was the wintry terrain she was placed in without a source of warmth, sending her to her deathbed with hypothermia. Tributes from the career districts found her frozen body a couple days later, gawking and laughing at the pained expression on her huddled corpse. Kagome vomited when she saw them poke Ayumi's icy flesh with twigs, burying her under snow, with just her head out. It was supposed to be funny. When a couple of those kids died, she felt no remorse.

Eri and Ayumi's deaths should have been a warning for Kagome. She was clearly next in line.

Kagome sighed, her heart heavy. The carpeted floor was still cuddling her feet. Her toes dug into the strands and pulled them slightly as she steadied herself.

"It'll be okay, Kagome." Sango reassured awkwardly, hovering beside her and patting her clammy hand on her bare shoulder. Kagome looked up at her and couldn't help but feel a little bad for her again. None of her tributes have ever survived the games. Inuyasha could be the one for her and Miroku.

She cannot be jealous of Inuyasha's predisposed advantages in the arena without feeling ashamed of it shortly after. His appearance only brought him prejudice until now. Kagome just desperately wished it were her to break the losing streak.

It _could_ be her.

"What if you put your faith in me?" She said aloud. Her eyes widened when she said it, she couldn't help but feel like she was a little delusional.

Sango's hand lifted from her shoulder quickly, like Kagome burned to touch. "What?"

Kagome couldn't believe she said it. It seemed dirty to campaign against Inuyasha, somebody she didn't hate at all, in fact she liked him a lot—but she loved her family much more.

"I can win too," she continued, standing up. "I'm not a demon, but I was raised by a priest and have worked with the church my whole life. I have my own skills. I know herbs. I can shoot."

 _It's not too late,_ she told herself. _We haven't left the train. It's only over once we're in the arena._ She can't control Miroku and Sango once she's gone.

If the only thing she could get was pity points, she could live with that. If it got her food in the arena when she really needed it, that is all that mattered. Anything that might work in her favor to help her win. Winning felt like Kagome's wildest dream, something imaginary and impossible, but if she did not try, she didn't even have a slim chance.

"Kagome, I know this!" Sango chuckled awkwardly and tilted her head in mock confusion. Her smile was thin and unsure. "We've gone over this extensively together, you have skills. It's all about what you do in the arena."

Kagome's eyes narrowed and she stared at her mentor.

Attempting to change the subject, she reached for the door. "You should take a shower and get ready for the day," the knob turned under her grip. "This is your last couple hours of privacy before the Capitol tries to swallow you whole, you should relax a little more. We have some clothes for you to wear in the bathroom."

As she was stepping out of the room, Kagome shouted and stood up. "Wait!"

"It's not only that," she insisted with a soft voice. "There's more to it. I know you know."

Sango paused and looked at Kagome with a shameful expression. Her eyes turned downward and her shoulders dropped slightly, pretty hands clutching the doorframe and knob. Sango swallowed her visible apprehension and stood straight, taking her fringe and brushing it behind her ear.

Kagome was unsure if she said the wrong thing. _Am I making it worse?_ Looking at the shuffling woman, her doubt dissipated slightly. She remembered the repeated times where Sango had apologized to her for their situation, offering the only consolation she could possible give within the structure of Panem. Her mentor had sentimentality. Kagome's appeal to her could work.

"People will like me. I can make them like me. It will work," she implored, fists squeezing in urgency. "I won't let the Capitol forget me like they did Eri and Ayumi."

Sango winced at the mention of her friends' names. She had to get to know both girls. She probably had to come to terms that the Capitol had been the death of them.

"Not _me,_ " she implored.

Sango swallowed and looked at her with a softer expression.

They stared at one another again. Kagome's toes dug into the carpet again, and she thought she might tip forward and fall into the abyss between them.

"I strongly advise you make the best of these last couple hours," her voice became firmer by the word, starting off hesitant but ending with a strict finish. The aura of a no-nonsense woman who stood at the podium the day she was called had resumed itself. "Trust that the time we spent together is valuable once you enter the arena."

Avoiding any type of response, Sango left without preamble. Kagome sighed loudly, tiredness escaping in a drawn-out puff from her chest as if someone had squeezed the air out of her themselves.

She gawked at the closed door. It was inanimate, but insulting. The wood was glossy and the knob was glass. Each time she saw that knob turn her heart sped up. Kagome wanted Sango to enter the room again and say she was right, and that she can win.

But now, stillness. Staring at the wood grain and the shining glass would not make it open.

"Fuck," she whispered. Tears came to her eyes again, and she felt angry. "No," she spoke to herself, louder than before.

Kagome has been made to shoot arrows since childhood. She's not a genius at it, but her grandfather always told her that she is competent. _At least._

Her fingers are not soft everywhere. In fact, she has formed callouses from practicing archery for so long now. To remind herself of this, Kagome runs her thumb along her index finger and feels the evidence of her training. She only had the too-loose thumb ring to protect her hand from the bowstring, not always effective.

Now trapped in nostalgia, Kagome remembered when she realized that her hands were adapting to the stress of her everyday routines and becoming harder in certain places. Not a delicate little thing any longer, she cried at the thought of being roughened over time.

Her mother had actually laughed at her and smiled a warm smile. "Sweet girl, nothing as insignificant as a callous would do anything to dull your charms." Kagome remembered hugging her tightly as she cried a little longer, holding onto vanity for only a few minutes more.

Her mother then taught her how to make a balm out of the plants she grew in the garden. Kagome made batches for herself and put it over as much as she could—scrapes, irritated skin, and of course, her hands.

It smelled earthy and it soothed her. There were specks of green scattered in the salve no matter how much she ground the herbs.

Kagome hopes she can find the right ingredients for the ointment in the arena, hopes for an amiable climate.

She takes the ring to the bathroom with her, afraid to leave it unguarded so close to the end of the train ride.

* * *

Finished with her shower, Kagome stepped into her room and gave everything a final glance. Coziness can be seen from every corner. The vision in front of her was overlapped by a memory—the overused cot that rested between Rin and Sota's beds.

 _So much for that,_ she thought with a sigh.

Since she felt so ambivalent to her bedroom, Kagome's attention went to her clothing. The clothes weren't _hers_ ; they were standard issue and straight from the Capitol. They smelled like bleached linen. She'd be lying to herself if they didn't make her feel even more despondent.

 _What will they do with_ my _clothes?_ Kagome wondered.

Throw them away. Burn them. Send them back home with her ashes, maybe.

She isn't ready to leave Twelve behind.

Underneath her fingers Kagome felt the slick wood of the dresser. Her hand skimmed to the center and pulled the ornate handle to reveal the clothes she forced herself to put away.

They were folded with care, but not perfectly. This was a comforting sight; it meant the uncanny perfection of the Capitol had not reached the parts of her that made her who she was.

Kagome decided she'd be entering the Capitol with clothes her mother had sewn for her instead of an outfit that was chosen in some meeting where they were debating how to best make people feel insignificant. She is lucky to have something her mother made for her, her family's ring, and the thoughts of her siblings keeping her going.

* * *

Kagome was feeling extra defiant, and thought about skipping breakfast with Miroku and Sango. Inuyasha did it every day after their first, so why couldn't she?

In the back of her head Kagome saw her mother wagging her finger at her, that's why. The overwhelming urge to be courteous is what brings Kagome to the breakfast table that morning.

"Hey, Kagome!" Miroku chirped, sipping on a coffee that she was sure had been spiked with liquor. "Glad you made it again today. I promised Inuyasha a bouquet of roses if he came to breakfast this morning, but he was unamused."

She gave an awkward nod and sat in her usual spot, surveying the spread. After days of indulging in sweet and decadent foods, Kagome had begun to yearn for the cozy breakfast made by her mother: eggs and plain rice.

While she prepared her plate, Miroku's mouth opened again, ready to comment. Kagome braced herself.

"It's your last day on the train and that is what you want?"

Kagome looked up at him and gave him an honest answer. "It reminds me of my mom. It makes me feel stronger."

He stopped and stayed still, the hand holding the sloshing coffee steadying as Miroku absorbed what she said. He blinked and his taunting smirk smoothed into what looked like a genuine smile. "I miss my father sometimes."

Kagome couldn't fight the warmth she felt. This was a _moment_. With Miroku, of all people.

Miroku cleared his throat and sipped his drink. "But when I miss my dad, I drink sake."

"Oh," Kagome said as she deflated. "I guess."

"You're depressing her," Sango huffed and sat down. "You're supposed to support your tributes."

Miroku's eyes gleamed when he turned to her. The coy reflection in his irises reminded Kagome of a stray cat. "I _am_ supporting Kagome. Right?"

The playful expression was turned to her and she couldn't stop the reflexive roll of her eyes. He remained undeterred as his eyes glossed back to Sango.

"I'm sharing my own story, that's appealing from a mentor, isn't it?"

Miroku calling himself a mentor made Kagome's skin crawl with anger. Of course, it was a simple word, a role he is filling. _It's absurd,_ she thought viciously.

"You're doing a poor job at mentoring me, so I wouldn't say you were appealing, either," she stated bluntly.

Miroku chuckled, appearing unfazed. "I do mentor you. You don't want to take my advice. Is that my fault?" His free hand rested on his chest to feign offense.

She quickly glanced down at her bowl of rice and suddenly she realized she could not eat with Miroku at the table.

"I would take your advice if it would work. But what you've said to me sounds like 'be quiet and die.'" The chopsticks in her hand were a grounding point that kept her from crying in front of this man again. She clutched them so tight they were almost one rod, a sword maybe. Or an arrow.

"I told you to be sweet, so people would like you..."

"The only person I'm not sweet to is _you_!"

Miroku's palm went up between them and Kagome scoffed loudly.

His hand dropped. "Be pitiful, Kagome. Talk about how you couldn't stand to see your sister die in the arena so you took her place. But your family isn't whole without you."

The chopsticks didn't help in that moment. If it was a sword, she was holding it by the blade and it was cutting her palm.

"I have to be pitiful? While the career districts get to be _what_ , intimidating? Am I supposed to be a lamb?" She thought that she could take pity, she hoped she could. But she was so much more than pitiful. Her voice wavered, dropping and showing the two mentors in front of her how humiliating it all was.

"That would help, yes. You play the sympathy card and get assistance in the arena because people like you and don't want you to be savagely torn apart by your peers."

"Miroku is exaggerating it, Kagome. You don't need to be milquetoast."

 _Milquetoast. What does that mean?_ Her heart was racing. It was all too much. How can she win when she has to act defenseless?

"I don't trust either of you," she stated.

The look on Sango's face was stricken. Miroku took a sip of his drink again.

"If people know how much you love your sister, they will love you for it," Sango said softly.

"It's your best angle, Kagome." Miroku reassured her.

She didn't want to continue talking to them, so she stood up and left.

* * *

While she was heading to her room as fast as her feet would take her, she bumped into a wall gracelessly, nearly tipping over.

This wall had arms, and they grabbed her wrists. "Kagome?"

Inuyasha's big hands enveloped her arm with ease and she shivered at the feel of the blunt ends of his claws skimming her pulse points.

Whenever Inuyasha spoke to her his voice was gravelly, but somehow resonant. Whenever he said her name it was coming straight from deep inside him. She's wondered if it's her imagination.

"Sorry," she started, trying to weave away from him. "Um, just trying to get to my room."

His hands held her steadfast, but didn't grip her; a cage around her skin.

"Wait," he whispered.

She looked up at him and they stopped, staring. Kagome's throat was stinging terribly, anger and frustration knotting her thoughts together. "What?" Her words a question, her tone a plea. She nearly begged him to let her go. She didn't want to play the pity game, especially not in front of him.

Inuyasha continued to stare, eyes flitting madly across her entire person. Was he doing a wellness check? Was he trying to find her weaknesses?

His eyes scrolled up from her mouth and she pursed it tersely. When his eyes met hers again, she couldn't keep the flow of emotions at bay anymore. Her head turned away and she blinked. Her face was so warm, burning with shame as two tears trickled down her cheek and came off her chin.

Kagome tore herself away. Everything inside her was coming to a rolling boil. Inuyasha's claws scraped her wrists with the motion, leaving red trails on her like bracelets. Again, they found themselves at a pause. She looked at her wrist, and looked at him. The movement was so fast that she hadn't noticed a crackle of spiritual energy slip through her skin when she withdrew. She looked at his fingers, the tips were singed.

Her cheeks were still wet, but the shell-shocked look on Inuyasha's face gave her pause and yanked her feelings back into her stomach for a moment.

"I can't control it," she said. Her hands came up in surrender, an attempt to placate him. "I know you didn't mean to scrape me…"

Inuyasha's face twisted up and he looked like the child she saw in school every day growing up. His brows pinched, the afflicted expression communicating so much anger and confusion.

"Why won't you just let me fucking help you?" He said harshly, venomously.

Kagome's eyes narrowed. "And that tone is supposed to convince me?"

He growled and forced an exasperated sigh from deep in his chest. She watched his nostrils flare as he pouted. "Do you even care, Kagome?"

Kagome was shocked. Her head jerked back with his words, almost like he struck her. Does she care? _Does she care?_

"How could you even _suggest_ —!" She clenched her fists at her sides and stepped into his space, her nose almost meeting his if it weren't for their slight height difference. "You're not allowed to tell me that, Inuyasha." Her voice came out in a hiss.

She watched his face twitch. His jaw clenched so tightly in response to her that his throat bobbed tensely, a harsh reply coming forth, but filtered through his clenched teeth. "Fine."

Inuyasha pushed past her and stormed off and into the dining room. As the door opened, she heard Miroku's delighted gasp begin and Inuyasha telling him to shut up before the door swung closed.

She couldn't find it in her to cry some more, she was too offended. Not caring? When Inuyasha refused to acknowledge he was the one who had the most potential to win out of the two of them. How awful.

Kagome wanted to shriek in anger but refused to give anyone the satisfaction anymore. She casts away the pitiful girl, burns her in a fire pit for extra warmth. If she must look fragile, it will only be a false skin. The fire lights inside of her stomach, calcifying her resolve.

* * *

Once Kagome had taken an hour to herself, she made her way into the parlor part of the train with heavy feet. She wore the clothes she came in on with pride.

Sango balked. "Kagome, are you sure you want to enter the Capitol in that? We have something new—"

"Yes," she replied, reminding herself to straighten her back like an iron rod. "I like this more."

"At least they fit you properly," Miroku commented dryly, not meeting anyone's gaze. His eyes were trained on the outside, where soon pathways and boutiques appeared to replace the forestry that they were all used to. The expansive windows were there for everyone to look through and enjoy the spectacle as they approached. Many people waved to Miroku, who gave a curt nod. "Mr. Sunshine's clothes were baggy as shit. He had no choice."

Kagome looked at Inuyasha, who rolled his eyes and fidgeted with his Capitol attire, stiffly pulling the top down to smooth out wrinkles that didn't exist.

Faintly, Kagome could hear people shouting their greetings for her and Inuyasha. At the moment, they were just a plural: "Hello, District 12!"

This is where she would gain admirers. Kagome bit her lip and started to think of making these people remember her name.

People were screaming and waving with huge smiles beside the train. Everyone was outlandishly dressed, colors everywhere and styled in ways she'd never seen before. As she peered further, she could see all of the roads were paved nicely and each building looked pleasant. No wear and tear, no livestock lingering around. She remembered Rin's goat, Ah-Un.

It was as if she was in another universe.

Kagome was slightly perplexed by the excitement displayed by the crowd. She almost wondered if everyone was actually conscious of the fact that the Games were a battle royale. But that was impossible.

She swallowed her critique and pushed the energy of her own anger into the spread of her smile. It was big and hopefully radiant. She waved enthusiastically out the windows while Inuyasha watched her in a sullen silence, tight lipped at the same crowd that called him as well. Kagome knew Miroku wasn't going to question her fervent participation, not when this was what he wanted. Her eyes traveled to her other mentor briefly. Sango looked like she was greeting the fellow Capitol residents out of obligation, an awkward smile as her eyes routinely flickered between her tributes and the people outside.

The train stuttered to a stop, heaving a great sigh once it settled into the station. People were held back by gates, and there was a clear way set for the District 12 entourage outside the train. The slight brush with celebrity had Kagome's stomach in knots, but she turned to a part in the cabin where no one could see her breathe deeply and soothe herself.

She felt a soft bump in between her shoulders. She turned to find Inuyasha looking at her with a hard expression on his face, half-stepped towards her. The way his brows pleated together told a tale of worry.

"You cry so much, I know you care," he said fitfully, teeth clenched as if the suggestion of an apology would hurt him. It was foreign, new on his tongue, most likely. Who was Inuyasha apologizing to, if ever?

The door was a ways away from them, but it opened nonetheless, a slight breeze coming in and sending a chill through her. Time stood still.

"Do _you_ care, Inuyasha?" Kagome let the question slip out to hold him for ransom. Here he was trying to quell their fight, and she wanted to start another one. But she had to know.

"No, I don't," he shakes his head. She gave him a disappointed look. "Okay, maybe a little," he admits.

She put her hand out to him, a proverbial olive branch. He took it hesitantly, their fingers brushing each other's wrists briefly before Miroku snapped his fingers impatiently to get their attention.

Inuyasha immediately turned to face their mentor and attempted to walk off, but Kagome was the one holding the wrist this time. She tugged him back, and he looked to her with puzzlement.

"May the best one win," she says, the fire in her stomach flaring up and coming right out of their mouth. He squinted like she might be too bright to look at directly.

He coughs and takes his hand away from her, she doesn't fight it. "Sure."

* * *

Kagome found herself separated from her company. Suddenly she was in a room filled with 11 other young girls, each of them being shuffled around from station to station being fixed up to Capitol standards. Even though Miroku and Sango were hardly comforting, losing their familiar faces made her fearful. She imagined Inuyasha being plucked at and scrubbed like she was.

A man with a smoke grey mohawk gasped dramatically when he lifted up her armpit. She was splayed on a table, already thoroughly cleaned. Underneath his eyes was a sharp black line that extended past his lashes and into his temples. "Ginta, look at this!"

He brushed his index against her armpit hair and she stifled a snort before she snatched her arm away. "Hey!"

"I always forget they're _au naturale_ in the lower districts," the man named Ginta huffed good-naturedly, like she was primitive. His own eyeliner emphasized his animal gaze. He had a streak of black at his hairline and the rest of it matched the other man that was torturing her.

"If we don't remove it, Koga will tell us to," the other one sighed. "Everyone hates being waxed."

"Waxed?" Kagome's head jerked in disbelief. "Please, don't, _um…_ " His name would be helpful in her pleading.

"I'm Hakkaku," he retorted as he slowly smoothed her arm back upward on the table. She didn't want to disobey and get in trouble, so she let him. "It'll be quick, twelve girl. I promise."

"I'm Kagome," she corrected.

"Kagome," Ginta smiled placatingly. Each tooth of his was sharpened into points, two accenting gems on his canines. "Waxing isn't so bad. Let me do your eyebrows first, and you'll see."

She swallowed and closed her eyes tight. Both men got to work on her, removing every extra bit of fuzz on her body that seemed abnormal to them. She didn't know how they decided this, but after all of it she felt tender and raw, even though they treated her fresh skin afterward with lotion.

* * *

Her skin was smoother than she had ever felt, gliding against her plain cotton clothes like satin on a stone. Ginta and Hakkaku ushered her into a different room and sat her down in a chair next to a flustered Inuyasha, who was looking at his hands in disdain. She glanced at them herself and saw that someone had buffed and shined his claws to a beautiful sharpness.

"I didn't know so many people would be touchin' me," he grumbled in her direction when they were left alone. "I hate it."

Kagome thought of the two strange men lifting her limbs in outrageous positions and ripping off the strips of hot wax.

"I don't want to imagine what they'll do to us next," she sighed in exasperation.

"Keh. You don't have to," Inuyasha turned to her fully. "They're going to put us in one big bowl and watch us kill each other."

"One step at a time," a voice came through the room before the face. Kagome and Inuyasha's eyes scanned the woman who appeared. She looked absolutely too regal to be standing in the cluttered dressing room, which suddenly looked dingy in comparison to her. Her silhouette was curved, highly emphasized by her flowing red pants and the white sleeveless turtleneck hugging her neck. Feathered earrings dangled along her collarbone. "You two have a few public appearances to make first."

"Unfortunately," Inuyasha spat. "Who're you?"

"Kikyo," she strolled over and scooped Inuyasha's flowing silver hair up from his neck and pulled it away from his person. He visibly bristled. "I'm your personal stylist. Koga is the girl's."

"You mean me?" She didn't know why she was nervous, but her eyes looked for this Koga. In the open doorframe stood a tall man with piercing blue eyes, covered in tones of deep brown and sporting an ornate fur pouch along the line of his hip. Kagome looked to the corner of the room for a second, staring at a pile of shoes, attempting not to blush in front of such a stately figure.

"Yes, you," Koga responded to her instead of Kikyo, with a raspy voice. "I hope Ginta and Hakkaku weren't too rough. I just always prefer beauty base zero."

Beauty base zero? She almost asked what that was, but he circled her with a pointed gaze, and she stared back. She searched his crystal irises, but he wasn't truly looking at her like a person. He was looking at her wholly, an image.

"You're quite beautiful, Kagome," he stopped. "It's not always this easy."

She swallows nervously. In her periphery, she could see Kikyo tying Inuyasha's hair into a low ponytail.

Koga moves behind her seat and speaks to her reflection in the mirror with a grin. "Beauty, Kagome—that's currency."

His words had Kagome studying her features with intent. She looked at the shape of her face, its contours and its plushes. Maybe she was desensitized to what Koga saw. What was in front of her is the face she's been acquainted with for 17 years. For all of those years, when her mind thought of beautiful, she thought of majesty, of rawness.

She thought of Inuyasha.

Automatically, the ghost of habit possesses her and she turns her head to look at the half-demon. He was stony and silent. On the floor shining silver lengths of hair were spread by Kikyo's feet. Her heart leaped.

"He's beautiful, yes," Koga leaned in close to her ear, moving her hair out of the way so that he may whisper unencumbered. "But I'm focused on you. Can you focus on yourself for me, too?"

Once Koga got to work on her, she knew she found a friend. Amongst the spill of compliments he gave her that caused her to blush was someone who was genuinely interested in her. She told him about her life, forgetting that it might be lost to her. He nodded as he curled her hair, smoothing fragrant oil through it and nursing the wispy curls he gave her with careful hands.

Kagome was looking at herself differently because of his efforts. Did everyone feel like this when they were made up so finely? Untouchable, reset, fresh. Her skin looked smooth. Her cheeks were blushed. A few delicate ringlets framed her face.

"You're powerful, Kagome." This time, when Koga grinned at her, she gave him one back, swept up in the glittering world he created for her.

Koga offered her his hand and she took it, stepping down from the high chair. Kagome was reminded of the storybook tales of princes and chivalry before the world changed.

As he led her to a new part of the dressing room, he told her the plans for her and Inuyasha's first appearance to the public: The Tribute Parade.

She had completely forgotten about Inuyasha. She turned to look behind her, his seat was empty. Kagome faced forward again and saw a rack bursting with clothes.

"Kikyo and I agreed easily that dressing you two up like miners was dumb and unoriginal. We want you both to cause a stir." Koga stopped and turned to Kagome again, as if he might have forgotten something. Kagome looked back at him, and he nodded to himself. "Red was the right choice. Kikyo and I took a long time to land on fire rat."

"Fire rat?" She asked.

"A fabric. You'll see."

He stepped away and started carding through all of the clothes, hand slipping in to grab the only red dress hanging there. It was long and decadent, with sleeves that will hang off her shoulders and cover her hands. The back was completely open. Koga handed it to her.

"Put it on," he nods and his eyes trail to look at the clumsy way she's holding the gown to her body. She clutched it tighter to her, worried she might lose it in the few seconds she needed to walk behind the ornate screen he pointed her to.

Kagome undressed out of the clothes that her mother made her. She kept her ring on her finger. The fabric pooled around her feet before she stepped out and put the dress over her head. It slinked down, everything hugging her in a reassuring way.

She stepped out from behind the divider, the length of the dress bumping against her bare feet. The gleam in Koga's eyes and the smirk on his lips told her he was pleased.

"You're going to blow them out of the fucking water, Kagome," he turned away and bent down, opening a nearby box. Inside were shiny red heels, like syrupy candy. Like the apple. He set them down in front of her feet. "These aren't too high. You should be fine."

Kagome bunched up the dress around her knees, looking awkward and inexperienced. Koga didn't appear to mind. She stepped into the shoes tentatively. Her hands freed the dress. She bobbed in place for a moment, coming to terms with her new sense of gravity. She was afraid to walk.

"Stand straight," Koga instructed her. "I want to look you over."

Kagome slowly stood to her full height. He huffed out a breath of air through his mouth, stifling his laugh.

"Hey," she accused.

"Don't worry," he shook his head and shushed her, a finger on his lips. She had noticed the armor-like ring that was on his index finger when he used it to part her hair while he dressed it. Now it was pressed to his lips. "I'm just happy to see the phoenix fly. Walk to me."

She stepped carefully, invading his space. Her arms splayed out, hoping to balance herself.

"The ring," he commented. "It's too big, and it doesn't match. Give it to me."

Kagome immediately fisted her hand to her chest, trying to hide her treasure from him. "I need it."

He studied her carefully and she tried not to cower or shrink at his gaze. He spent all this time fostering her confidence and here he was, rearing over to crush it. Koga's hands came up to hold her biceps, giving a comforting squeeze. Her arm sank down. He held her away from him, scanning her fully. She tried not to blush under the attention. "They are going to love you."

Water pricked at her eyes again. She resisted it with all of her might, dipping her head back to drain the tears back into her body. "I want them to," she whispered uneasily. It was okay to tell Koga what she wanted, right? He was on her side, for all intents and purposes. "I want to win."

Koga's metal adornment poked her jawline as he pulled it down to face him. "I'm betting on you, Kagome. I will keep the ring safe."

She tentatively hands it to him, and he slips it on his own finger. It fit just fine. "My clothes, too? My mom made them."

He nodded reassuringly. Kagome pressed her lips together in thought, wondering how to stand out next to someone like Inuyasha.

"Come on," he took her hand and guided her out to where the parade will begin. "You and Inuyasha are the finale. We are going to use that to our advantage."

Once she stepped outside, there was the sound of thunderous applause trailing into the space as the Capitol residents awaited the procession of tributes. Ahead of District 12's chariot were all of the other districts, each extravagantly decorated. None of the other tributes faced their direction, and this disappointed her. She wanted to see them. Directly in front of their chariot was the tributes for Eleven. A boy that looked like a mountain towered over the little girl next to him, who only came up to his legs. The little girl had silver hair like Inuyasha's, but mixed with a tinge of ash. The backs of their heads told her nothing. She looked to her own chariot.

Standing there in the same vibrant red that she wore was Inuyasha, bright golden eyes standing out against the fabric. Compared to her, he had no sleeves, a cuff hugging his arm and a gold ring decorating his neck, no hair hanging around his shoulders to cover it.

Kagome blinked away her disbelief, staring at Inuyasha. His hair was cropped and shaven, left with a longer princely section across the crown of his head. He looked back at her, still disgruntled.

Koga pat her, his hand on her bare back shocking her skin a bit. She wobbled slightly to get onto the chariot, holding onto her stylist's hand for balance as she stepped in next to Inuyasha. Instead of being at his shoulder, she was near his jaw in height because of the heel.

"You kept your hair," he grunted at her. "Lucky."

"I-it looks good on you, honestly," she said nervously. He didn't look boyish. He looked brutish, conquering, a serious brow and a sharp jawline softened with his feminine eyes framed with long black lashes. He purses his full lips and her stomach swooped before she spoke again. "I never thought I would see you with so little hair."

"My neck is cold," he said frankly.

"Get over yourself," Kikyo leaned on opposite side of their ride, arm slung over. Her bracelets clinked against the wood frame. "Remember what we talked about?"

"Yes," he nodded curtly.

"Trust me, Inuyasha." Her voice was soothing, and Kagome felt she was the exact type of person that could weather him into some submission, like Koga placating her into wearing heels and letting him hold the ring.

"Sure," Inuyasha said sarcastically. "My neck is still cold."

"Good enough," Kikyo sighed before she met Kagome's gaze. "I want you both to know that this entire thing is going to catch fire."

"W-what?" Kagome stuttered in surprise. "I know we want to stand out, but..."

"Don't worry," Koga said softly. "You both are wearing fire rat leather. It won't even burn you, just sit on top of your clothes. We both made sure you guys are wearing lotions and oils that will protect you just in case."

She fought the urge to gawk in disbelief at them lest she reveal just how far she was out of her depth.

Kikyo handed Inuyasha the button, which is probably smart. "Press this when you think it's the perfect time."

Koga and Kikyo left them alone. She tried to quell her jitters, the provincial side of her sending goosebumps along her skin at the idea of the fire licking her flesh.

Inuyasha turned to her and held out his hand. "I'll squeeze you when it's time."

Kagome nodded meekly, hoping to absorb his bravery into her palm after she took it. She threaded their fingers. He looked at her with slight shock in his expression, but gave her hand a brief but comforting squeeze anyway.

The tributes ahead of them had started their ceremonious procession, the crowd clearly and vibrantly reacting to each pair in the waves that they appeared. When she and Inuyasha started moving, Kagome hoped she didn't falter on her feet, placing her weight firmly on the points of her heels to hold her steady.

Once they came into the golden afternoon light, Inuyasha waited a few seconds. Kagome's body was creeping with anticipation, wanting to be wowed just as much as the crowd surrounding them. Inuyasha presses their hands together tightly and she braced herself, breath seized inside her chest.

Suddenly they were alight, and she couldn't feel a thing. Screens were floating in the air around them, projecting their image and Kagome saw her reflection. She and Inuyasha looked like two pieces in one whole. They looked like royalty. She noticed that Kikyo put glitter in his hair.

A triumphant smile overcame her. _I want them to love me,_ her desires rang inside her mind loudly. The cheers grew. Kagome looked down at her intertwined hand with Inuyasha's and noticed an opportunity.

Kagome had lifted their arms in the air like they had already won. Inuyasha almost didn't let her do it, but he released the tension that was limiting her and reciprocated her vigor. She turned her gaze to him with mirth pouring from her. He gave pause and steadied their locked eyes, face softening and the tension melting. He gave a slight smirk, looking back at the crowd. A complementary pair. As if—maybe, they could win as a team.

She didn't care to remember how impossible that was in the moment.

Roses and all kinds of flowers she didn't recognize flew to their feet. Inuyasha caught one with his other hand and the citizens wailed in delight.

After they had made their rounds and all of the people had saw them, the horses slowed to a trot and they approached a lot bustling with other tributes and their teams. Her and Inuyasha disengaged, her hand slightly wet with the sweat their heated palms created. She stretched her lonesome fingers experimentally. Kagome was lost for breath; every atom of her energy was eaten by the crowd behind them and she panted heedlessly.

"Our prince and princess," Miroku cooed at them when they approached. Sango was standing in silent awe right beside him. Next to Kagome, she heard Inuyasha suck his teeth. "You've outshone the entire history of Twelve's tributes. This is a good start."

Koga came up to her side and held his hand out to aid her descent again. She took it and stepped down, heels clicking against the marble floors underneath.

"It was good, Inuyasha," Kikyo said in a gentle voice, patting his shoulder after he gotten down in front of her. He nodded curtly, a smattering of blush on his cheeks. He probably wasn't used to praise. "I'll relieve you of your jewelry for now."

He took it all off himself readily, tearing it from his skin like it stung to wear it.

"You were brilliant," Koga gushed. He took the ring from his finger and slipped it on her own hand in one motion. He still primped her hair even though there were no Capitol eyes to relish her appearance anymore. "More than I could ever expect. You wore the design with pride."

Kagome twirled her loose archery ring around her finger anxiously. She hoped this day was over. Koga told her he could get her ring adjusted to fit her finger better. "Next time," she whispered meekly.

"We done?" Inuyasha asked the adults.

Sango smiled a tired smile. "For today, yes. I'll take you to your quarters."

* * *

Kagome felt a bit bad to wash away Koga's handiwork, but she soaked herself in the tub anyway. Ever since she'd been on the train, she learned that she really enjoys long, hot baths. Typically, she'd dunk herself in her home's washing tub, cleaning up fast, and then get to doing things for the day. She only ever lingered when she wanted to wash her hair.

Steam rose from the water and clouded the mirrors of the expansive bathroom. Somehow, their living quarters were an upgrade from the train. She didn't fathom that you could get any better than what the train had to offer, but the Capitol proved its reputation for excess. She had a bathroom in her room.

She didn't let her mind run while she was soaking. Kagome wanted to absorb the silence of the bathroom, where no one could bother her. Her eyes remained closed as she let nothingness overtake her. Calm and quiet. She floated in the tub for an indiscriminate amount of time, the only indicator that time had passed being the gradually cooling water surrounding her.

Kagome didn't cringe at the air when she stepped out of the tub. She let the air bring goosebumps to her skin to wake her mind up from its thoughtless haze. She covered herself with the towel and grabbed her ring off the counter and went to her bed.

* * *

Once she got changed, she heard a knock at her door. _Who could it be?_ The day was over.

Miroku told her when they were taking her first elevator trip that the Capitol never sleeps. Twinkling lights were flashing from the tall buildings and reflecting on the windows of their temporary home.

Kagome walked to the door and opened it to find Inuyasha. The sparkles that were spread in his hair had flecked down to his cheeks and his jaw. He seemed to have had trouble cleaning it.

"Please get this shit off of me," he grumbled at her, eyes looking down and away from her in shame. "It keeps sticking to me when I rub at it."

Kagome couldn't stop her smile even if she wanted to. The Games seemed so far away right then. It was just her and a friend (she thinks) asking if she can get glitter off of him.

"You don't remember primary school, when this stuff was everywhere?" she laughed as she ushered him into her room and dragged the seat by her bed into the bathroom she was just occupying. It was still steamy with the heat of her bath, her wet footprints trailing on the floor, evaporating slowly. He stopped and surveyed the bathroom for a second, but said nothing. "My mom used to scrub my hands with a brush when I got home."

"I hated that," he commented when he sat down in front of the mirror. "I got in trouble on purpose to avoid it."

Her mind quickly draws up the image of a sleeping Inuyasha, face and arms on his desk while everyone else was making their family trees or whatever else was in store for that day.

Kagome grabbed a hand towel near the sink and ran it under warm water. Once the towel was good and wet, she ringed it out so it wasn't sopping. She was practiced at this, always hand washing clothes for the entire Higurashi clan to lessen her mother's workload.

She made Inuyasha tilt his head away from her. Covering her hand with the towel, she used a gentle scrubbing motion alongside his cheekbone to rid him of the adornment.

Kagome had never touched a boy—another person, even—like this, holding his head tenderly with her opposite hand and letting herself feel the structure of his face. She tried to ignore it as best she could. But it was so sweet.

Kikyo left enough hair along his nape and sides that she could feel the softness of skin and the downy hair against the pads of her fingers. Hair was where human ears would be, but it wasn't a strange sight like she would have assumed if he had a cropped cut.

At first, Inuyasha's face felt lax under the towel. The longer she held his head and wiped his face, the more tense he became. First, he bit down and kept his jaw taut. Then he stretched his lips into a thin line, furrowing his brows in the process. Lastly, his glossed over eyes closed tightly.

"You look absolutely tortured," she laughed at him again. Kagome looked him once over the way Koga did so many hours ago, admiring her handiwork. He was red in the places she rubbed; the untouched tips of his ears had a twinge of rosiness to them as well. "You're free."

"Listen, no one touches me," he said gruffly, echoing his complaint from earlier. "I think I've had more hands on my skin today than my entire life. I'm at my limit."

Kagome put the towel in the sink and crossed her arms, thoughts swirling in her mind. "Me too. I felt like an object."

They looked at each other sympathetically, comfortable with the silence for once. Until he broke it.

"Kagome," he said softly, tenderly. His pupils were wider than usual, she noticed.

"Inuyasha," she replied with as much care he showed her own name.

"Today—that," he started cautiously. "You carried us."

Kagome shook her head, her hand coming up dismissively.

"No, shut up," he said quickly. "They really liked you."

She cannot understand how he completely disregarded his magnetic presence.

"You don't know, do you?" she said curiously, words escaping her before she could think about them. He gave her a questioning gaze in return. "The effect you have."

His nostrils flared; his eyes closed. Reluctant to speak. His eyes opened and she watched his pupils start out blown and shrink in the same second. "You—"

She tilted her head down, encouraging him to continue.

"I've been bitching about protecting you and here you are, protecting yourself," he stood up abruptly, walking out the room, "thanks for your help."

"Hey!" she quickly moved to follow him, "I don't see how that's a problem!"

"It's not," he said curtly and turned to face her before he left her completely.

"Okay!" she said firmly, her words being the force that stopped him from going. "Then—"

"Then what?" he barked.

"Then stay," she whispered.

"Stay here?" Inuyasha was speaking the same way he did when he said her name, carrying the words with the soft powdery tone of affection.

Was it affection? "I don't know," she confessed. Her own voice trembled with her vulnerability, the fear of rejection. "Just stay. Please."

He dipped his head down, hair not nearly long enough to hide most of his face anymore. Instead, his eyes were shrouded for a moment. He looked at her through his lashes. "Okay."

And then there were no words. The two of them were consumed by the nothingness that held her while she was in the bath, foregoing thought. They existed in the silence, recuperating and stacking up their personhood again inside themselves after a day of being erased. Only someone as stripped as Kagome was from the day would be desperate enough to ask Inuyasha to stay. He was a fragment of home.

 _Right?_

They fell asleep.

* * *

 **notes** : FINALLY, CHAPTER 2! Big sorry to all who were waiting, I love this story but life sometimes comes at you fast and the beautiful romantic multichaptered fanfic you're writing collects dust until your brain can do the story justice again. Thank you so much for reading! Lots of love and thanks to The Monday Child for listening to me ramble on and also editing this for me. Also big thanks for my cat who sat in my lap as I edited this, when she added "bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb" with her paw I knew I had to save that zinger of a line for later.


End file.
